


Racing the tides

by LadyKG



Category: Naruto
Genre: F/F, F/M, I'm writing this mostly for Nanowrimo, M/M, Madara is being Madara, Pirates are amazing so there is that too, They go on adventures, don't take this seriously, first times though, it's basically a Pirates of the Caribbean Au but not REALLY, kidnapping is involved, really this is just CRACK, sort of, there might be smut im not sure, they're pirates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-05
Updated: 2018-02-23
Packaged: 2018-08-29 04:00:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 42,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8474542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyKG/pseuds/LadyKG
Summary: Once, a long time ago, he wasn’t a Captain. Wasn’t even a pirate – though at this point in his life he can’t picture himself as fitting any other role. He used to be like the very men he just ordered behind bars; a loyal sailor of Konohagakure. But now he stands at the head of one of the most feared pirate crews to sail the seas. The past nothing but memories left to flow with the tides. But even they come back sometimes.





	1. Red sky in morning

**Author's Note:**

> ‘Ello lovely readers!
> 
> I present to you my newest creation! Mwhaha- I mean…. Eh, nevermind.
> 
> Okay, so I know this might be a bit confusing as far as navigation goes, but just picture the normal map but the majority of the land is under water instead of actual land (like a good 60-70 percent of each nation) and all that water is owned and protected by those nations, and titled things like ‘Sea of Fire’ or ‘Sea of Lightening’. The smaller nations are just considered islands. And all the hidden villages are ports.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy! And please review!

_“Red sky in morning sailor’s warning” – be wary when the sky is red in the morning as it is a bad sign; a sign for rough seas ahead._

The sand skids and sinks under the force of his steps, his boots scraping against the tiny particles that span the length of the small island beach. His crew rush after him, scrambling to make it back to their smaller docking boats. Silver shines in his peripheral and the sound of metal hitting metal has the Uchiha spinning around, the flat of his sword meeting his opponent’s blade – with a growl they break apart but it takes only the flick of a wrist and the man goes down, blood soaking the sands. Sasori passes him then, a blank look on his face but his eyes are filled with equal parts frustration and murder. The Uchiha thinks he understands.

Obito tips his head to the man, looking back to make sure all of his crew has made it out of the fray. (Because they are a team and losing another one of them is the absolute _last_ thing Obito wants.) He counts heads and the roaring in his ears quiets just a little, enough that he can hear the way the water is kissing the shore a few steps away. It would be romantic if it wasn’t for the way the sand ran red.

In that last stretching moment, just as he is moving to turn away, black eyes meet black and the Uchiha scowls. A show of teeth as good a warning as any in the short time he has before the boats broaching the separation between land and sea depart. He turns his back on the enemy; a show of disrespect that he knows will cut deep. One he hadn’t dared to give in his younger years – those robbed of innocence by sharp blades, and crashing waves washing away the last semblance of childhood still threading to his heart. Gripping the wooden frame of the last boat he pushes until it’s in deeper water and leaps with a shout to start paddling. The dark-haired captain holds back a sigh of relief as the men are quick to heed his command. At least all of the _Akatsuki_ made it out of the situation alive. He can’t say much for the snake’s crew, however. Nor does he particularly care.

(He’s not sure the snake cares much either, not with what had just transpired. And although the thought of such a thing makes the Uchiha’s blood boil he knows that simply striking down the snake will lead to nothing good.)

He scans the waters ahead and notes the waves are gaining strength. Calculations run through his mind; with the dark clouds hanging not far off and the direction of the wind he doubts they will miss the storm. Giving one last look at the virtual army of men moving on the island to their own boats – presumably on another beach farther down – Obito feels a headache rising like the very sea, one that makes him want to rub at his temples in attempted relief.

Because those aren’t their biggest problems.

Really, Obito can barely even believe he’s _in_ this situation to begin with. He thought he was done dealing with Madara years ago – the only thought given to the elder pirate has been that of revenge – and now the mad bastard has managed to draw him into another of his crazed plans. Has made him a facilitator of it at that.

He would laugh if it all wasn’t so threatening. Wasn’t all so disheartening. What’s even more is that his life is all but forfeit when this is said and done. If he had the choice he would go back to the beginning of all this mess and tell his younger self a thing or two.

 

They are attacked.

Which is nothing new; they _are_ pirates, after all. And being targeted by various nations’ military vessels is nothing they aren’t already used to.

“Captain,” his right hand, Nagato, calls out, sword pressed precariously against the neck of a silver-haired man; the Captain of the enemy ship – ANBU Ro if Obito caught the name of the sinking vessel correctly. “What do we do with the prisoners?”

The Uchiha scans the group, beaten and slightly bloody, that kneel across his deck; their eyes are defiant with a fierce rebellion. Alight with the very fire that Konoha seamen are known for. There are seven of them remaining – the others, skill-less deckhands, have been swallowed by the sea.

“Throw them in the brig,” he commands, turning on his heal and stalking towards the helm. The rustle of fabric and shouts to move all he needs to hear to know that his orders are being followed – not that he ever doubted they would be as it stands. Konan (his third in command) steps back as Obito comes to her side.

“It’s been a while since Konoha’s caught up to us,” she comments simply, a strange glint in her orbs.

Obito meets it steadily, “It’s been a while since they’ve been this far from the Sea of Fire.” A frown tugs at his lips. They are skirting the very edges of the Sea of Lightning and the Sea of Stone, almost in unclaimed territory. There is no reason for Konoha sailors to come out this far.

Unless they are hunting something.

“Is that why you didn’t throw them to Davy Jones?”

He glances sidelong at her, the woman has always been a force to be reckoned with – dangerous with a sword and even more so with her quick wit. She would have to be, as the only woman on this crew – proving herself became something of entertainment when they first started out and new members doubted her. Planting them on their ass a few times always seemed to do the trick, however. And when they settled with their current crew such trifles were no longer required.

“We need to know what they’re after,” Obito says simply. “They seem to be looking for something with the way they aimed their guns.”

Konan nods, “Away from any possible areas of storage.” They could chalk it up to the choppy seas and a crew that is particularly ineffective – but Konoha wouldn’t send any ship but their best to such far reaches. And Obito recognizes of few faces amongst the sailors – ones that had been at the academy with him; they aren’t bad seamen. (Not that he can particularly recall any names; it had been years ago after all.) The last nail in the side for such conclusions is the fact they are titled ANBU – a black ops ship, sent out to deal mostly with pirates or the most precarious of trades. So the only possible conclusion is that their shoddy canon fire is out of deliberate actions and orders on their part.

Which just leaves the question of why? What could they have possibly been looking for that they thought the Akatsuki would have?

A companionable pause settles softly between the two pirates, filled with nothing but the smell of salt on the wind and the rush of water that keeps them afloat. They have known each other for years now, nearly half Obito’s life has been spent with Nagato and Konan at his side. Not that he’s spent much time keeping track; doing so always leaves him a bit bitter with the taste of long past memories rolling over his tongue. Memories that kindle the fire of revenge in his chest too intensely for his liking.

“Do you want to question them or should Nagato and I?” The words are quieter than perhaps there is need to be but Obito understands the significance all the same.

“No,” he lets out a breath, “I can handle it.”

The woman gives a sharp nod, before taking her leave – not bothering to bow or even give an indication of respect.  He lets out a huff of amusement at this; they’ve been friends for so long he figures that he shouldn’t expect anything less. (And despite his title as Captain of this fine vessel his crew is more of a democracy than it is a tyranny. Not to say his men won’t follow a command, just that they feel no qualms about complaining or stating their argument. And the one time a few of the nonpermanent crewmen had seen it fit to try and take over? Well, it hadn’t ended well. Besides, when Obito finds that they are unnecessarily and harmfully not following a direct order he just subjects them to particularly brutal one-on-one training.) Konan takes the last striding steps between herself and the rest of the crew starting to find themselves on deck awaiting orders.

With a glinting, grin he raises his voice above the whistling winds, “Take your posts, we sail ‘til dawn!”

A roaring chorus of, “Hai, Captain,” crashes over him in a warm wave. It never gets old.

Once, a long time ago, he wasn’t a Captain. Wasn’t even a pirate – though at this point in his life he can’t picture himself as fitting any other role. He used to be like the very men he just ordered behind bars; a loyal sailor of Konohagakure. Part of the well-esteemed Uchiha family that watched over the majority of the grounded military force and their extravagant navy. And even though he was a black sheep of sorts – with more skill for pranks and emotional awareness than most of his so called ‘family’ – he was still afforded the benefit of attending the academy for nautical careers. He hadn’t excelled in the school; always behind and never able to tie the correct knots or remember all the terms the teachers handed out.

But now he stands at the head of one of the most feared pirate crews to sail the seas, one only rivaled by two others. Although, Obito surmises, their goals stand to differ from the other ships that pass through the water; while most look for wealth and fortune, the famed Akatsuki does not. They spend more time exposing the unjust actions of corrupted governments than anything else – they like to think themselves vigilantes of sorts. It’s easier said than done though. Especially with the five largest nations near constantly at their heals. But the smaller ones, the ones that they have helped run revolutions with and given supplies to free of trade – they shelter the crew for those times of danger when their ship is damaged and their spirits sunken.

(Oddly enough, Konoha has been the most reserved about pursing them. Not that Obito _wants_ them to, because it would just cause more trouble. Just that he finds it strange for a nation that prides itself on justice and teamwork to be backing down from hunting the most infamous crew in the seas.)

Despite their claim to fame, they are a small crew with only eight members. But that’s all they need, all they have ever needed – and they are all the closer for it. They can go in against impossible odds and come out no worse for wear. _Have_ , and mostly likely will again with the way the fates seem to favor there more hapless sides.

Pulling himself from such thoughts Obito pushes his mind to focus on where they should head to next. Supplies are running lower by the day, but plundering a small island won’t do them any good with prisoners still under deck. What few supplies they were able to gather from ANBU Ro before her sinking aren’t going to last long. Which means they need to go about collecting resources through more civilian means.

But where to dock? Konoha is out for obvious reasons – in fact it might be best to stay away from the Sea of Fire all together. Even flying favored flags in that region won’t be enough – their ship’s name too recognizable. Perhaps heading towards the island of Amegakure would be best – they need supplies anyway, and with a new leader of the small port village on the southwestern shore, Obito thinks they might have a chance at forming a sort of treaty. Yet that is closer to Konoha than Obito wants to be. Yet… since they’re now riding the tides between the Sea of Lightning and the Sea of Stone, maybe they could take the current and wind all the way down to Wave – it would still cut them despairingly close to Konoha, but with a string of islands between them and the larger mass of land, it might work.

“Obito,” he is broken from his musings as Nagato comes to his side. The dark of night continues to creep by the stars, his main point of guidance – soon it will be morning and he’ll give his crew the much needed break they are no doubt craving. “The ship needs repairs on the broadside.”

The Uchiha holds back a heaving sigh, looks like they would be riding the tides. “Then we head to Wave. Zabuza still owes us.”

Nagato nods, looking out over the horizon with the Uchiha – Obito would order the man back to work but the company is more than welcome at the moment and he gets the suspicious feeling the redhead knows it. His first mate; the one he trusts and the one that earned the name the Six Paths of Pain for his ability to wield six different kinds of weapons near perfectly.

His first mate who lets out a cry of inaudible surprise, eyes wide with emergency as they gaze past Obito to his right. His first mate whose hair is glowing with the rays of first light washing over the horizon painting the morning sky red.


	2. Waves will rise on silent water

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ‘Ello lovely readers!
> 
> Hope you are all well! So this is the next chapter – YAY!!!
> 
> It’s done earlier than I expected and most chapters will be posted later than this as I’m doing this for Nanowrimo so everything is really rough when I first write it. Which means going back and rewriting it is a must, but finding the time for that is harder than I thought it would be.
> 
> Anyway, onto the chapter! Hope you guys enjoy; and please review!

 

_“Waves will rise on silent water” – be wary of the quiet; calm before the storm._

The sea is quiet, the wakes low and the clouds puffy white in the sky as the sun starts to reflect upon their surface. The stars slowly recede with the night; little points of navigation losing the battle against the break of day. It would be a peaceful scene; one that Obito and his crew have seen innumerable times before. One that has heralded a promise of new beginnings, new adventures, and new paths to be taken that the whim of their wills would stumble upon. But the sky is red. A deathly, hollow Red reflecting in the delicate morning light that paints the sky like a watercolor portrait complimenting the calmly patient sea below. A sea silently bearing witness to disappearance of millions of navigational points.

It makes sense now. He really needs to learn to listen to the old nautical sayings more often.

“Battle stations…” Obito’s voice comes out a whisper at first, his lone eye caught on the ship cresting the painted horizon, the ship that is sailing towards them at impossible knots. Or… impossible for all but one ship beside their own, and if the flag that flies to scrape the sky is any indication they are in for the fight of their lives. Adrenaline kicks in then, a sudden flush of chemicals that pumps his heart faster and brings his voice to a roar, “Battle stations!”

Six heads come whipping around, the hands on deck suddenly frozen as they process the order just given. As the realization that they are about to fight in a ship still needing repairs – still needing supplies – those they were able to barely scrap away from ANBU Ro won’t be enough for this battle. Nagato is still frozen, his eyes wide and a brimming anger filling their depths that Obito recognizes all too well. It was with Madara’s help that Hanzo had destroyed the man’s life.

(Although, in the end the blame can be spread too wide over different corrupted officials, from Ame to Konoha to the pirates riding the seas. Nagato sometimes tries to convince Obito that he has moved on, but the Uchiha sees it in the way he flinches at the mention of authority figures, the way his eyes spark when memories are dug into too deep. The way he wakes screaming when they share a hotel room on shore to save what money they have scrounged together – he sees that the death of Yahiko has left a permanent scar on both Konan and the redhead. One that no matter how hard they deny and push aside will always come back to haunt them. One, that no matter how many more precious people they manage to fill their hearts with will always leave a distinctly dark region).

The Uchiha searches Konan out on deck, locking eyes and with just that the woman is moving, all grace and deadly strides. She will deal with Nagato – for now the Uchiha needs to position the Akatsuki for a fight. He would try to run, but the Akatsuki and the Kaguya are matched in speed. Even with the tides in their favor Madara still has the wind racing him along.

Which means they fight. And though Kaguya has a larger crew, needed to support her bulkier size, they are all mindless workers – only half-decent with a sword and no match for the Akatsuki’s battle-hardened sailors. Yet… his men are tired, wary from working all day and all night with little sleep and few breaks, worn from the battle earlier still and their ship is much the same. There isn’t even a certainty that Madara will attack – perhaps they will act simply as passing ships, but he doubts it. Madara wouldn’t have increased his speed so much should it have been that.

Uchiha Madara is the most infamous pirate in all the elemental seas. A ruthless defector from Konohagakure years ago, who most now talk only of as a legend – any tale claiming he still rides the waves taken as nothing by hearsay. But for those who take to the water often, for those who braves its storms and perilous unpredictability; they know the truth.

The fact of the matter is that the man is very much alive – something that Obito _still_ hasn’t figured out the mechanics behind, though he has his suspicions – and that Obito used to be his third in command. (Second only in name; he realizes now that Zetsu had always out ranked him despite what the two had tried to make him believe).

It’s a tense time; waiting for their enemy to come within range of the canons, the world silent beyond the creek of wood.

He takes that time to look over his crew, let their faces burn into his memory now more than ever – this may very well be the last he ever sees them. A mere moment is spared to the realization that they still have prisoners beneath deck and that they surely face the chance of being lost during this battle. It’s only a passing thought, however, Obito’s mind preoccupied with more pressing matters.

The licking of water against the sides of their vessel sounds once. Twice. Three times.

He locks eyes on the other ship; the Captain, he can see at the helm with a smile wide enough Obito can make out his teeth.

A tick of silence, held between one beat of his heart and the next, Madara’s lips twitch pulling from their stretch to form a word.

“Fire!” Obito cries out, the command matched by their enemy ship. The sound of canons blasting through the air, the crack of wood, the scream of sailors.

It breaks the silence.

Not long into the fight Madara’s men begin swinging onto their vessel, Kisame and Konan doing their best to meet them but the sheer number gives the enemy too much of an advantage. Obito can see Deidara and Sasori at the canons, aim as true as ever but the look of sudden panic has the Captain realizing that they are all but out of gunpowder. Obito himself is striking down those that escaped their fate long enough to make it to the helm, but it won’t be enough – soon he’ll have to step away from his position and join the battle.

He slides under a blade, brings his up and feels the squelch of flesh splitting, he doesn’t even flinch at the sudden warmth of blood against his cheek nor at the sound of a body dropping to the deck. He’s too busy already moving away to the next dead-man walking. This is his vessel, his crew, _his._ And he will protect it. Sliding easily down the stairs to his deck Obito mercilessly slices through pirate after pirate.

“Good to have you join us, Captain,” Kisame gives a smile fit for the fiercest of sharks as the man’s massive blade swings down on another unfortunate soul.

The Uchiha can’t help but smile at that, because beyond their fight earlier against the ANBU he hasn’t felt the need to participate in a battle for such a long time. And maybe the conditions aren’t _ideal_ what with fighting Madara and all, but all the same it feels so good to have adrenaline pumping through his veins. He wouldn’t have even dreamed of being a sailor in the first place if he didn’t love the thrill of the fight.

But this fight _is_ against Madara, and getting too caught up in it will only lead to his downfall.

Metal meets metal as a nameless face blocks his attack, over the man’s raggedly clothed shoulder he sees a flash of contrasting skin. Pulling back he shifts he foot to the perfect angle and twists his blade in a well-remembered kata. With the beginning of an inhale he lets his hand fall from the hilt of his blade while simultaneously dropping of his weight, lets the man’s force overpower his balance as the Uchiha brings out a short blade form his boot.

The man never stood a chance, anyway.

Picking up his sword once more he scans the crowd for the figure he suspects to have seen before. His gaze hadn’t betrayed him. He easily spots the patchwork form of Zetsu with a rope in hand and one foot on the railing of Kaguya.

A snarl leaves his lips; Zetsu is preparing to board, the bastard right hand of Madara is a force to be reckoned with and Obito will leave no one but himself to deal with the menace.

“Konan,” he calls out, as he feels the ships lurch to the right. The lines that Madara’s crew have hooked between their vessels giving enough purchase for the larger ship to tug Akatsuki to the side. “To the helm!”

His blade slices through another anonymous crewmember, with little remorse he pushes the body into the ocean below. “Hidan, take her position. Kakuzu help keep them away from Sasori and Deidara!”

He spins just as he hears a blade being drawn, a spark flies as the flat of his sword meets another’s and his eye goes wide with sudden panic: the prisoners have escaped and managed to find their weapons. His men are busy, they can’t afford to spare a hand in dealing with escapees; all the same he isn’t sure they can handle both crews at once. He meets his fellow captain’s gaze, hoping none of his thoughts show on his face. Revealing such weakness is nothing but a death sentence on these seas.

“How’d you escape?” He decides upon starting with, because that’s the real question – they had taken all of the sailor’s weapons – down to even the toothpicks one of them had.

“Cannonball,” the silver-haired sailor says while pulling back, and before Obito can react his blade is striking to the Uchiha’s left, there is the gasping bubble of blood in a throat and the thump of a body. Obito chances a glance down, his heart sinking as he imagines Hidan or Kisame at his feet. But it’s neither. In fact it’s the blood of one of Madara’s men that is soaking into the wood of his ship.

His gaze shoots back up, not comprehending – why would the man _help_ him? But the masked captain is already gone, as are the other Konoha sailors. Realization crashes down all at once, and he is twisting around blocking another attack as he yells out, “Don’t attack the prisoners!”

He doesn’t have the time to make sure his orders are followed – his priorities already filled with cutting a path to where he can see Nagato and Zetsu fighting now. Taking a step left he guts an enemy but just as he goes to move forward two others take the dead man’s place and Obito is forced to step to his previous position. His back hits another’s and a flash of silver catches his peripheral, “Why are you helping?” He manages the time to growl out, sidestepping the slice of a blade and elbowing his attacker between their shoulders so that they will fall on the masked man’s short blade.

“Do you really think now’s the time to be asking that?” Said man counters, dodging a sword and spraying blood against Akatsuki’s dark wood. Before Obito can respond he’s pulled away by Konan’s sudden shout. Following her line of sight he spots Nagato’s limp form held over Zetsu’s shoulder. A guttural sound that is more animalistic than Obito thought himself capable of leaves his mouth. Lunging forward with the intent of securing his friend’s safety the Uchiha is met with even more of Madara’s annoying crew; the ones the man seems to have in spades but have no real skill.

“Nagato!” He hears Konan shout out, the rest of Akatsuki’s crew taking note and moving to help. But it’s all too late, Kaguya’s men are falling back to her, all the while covering Zetsu’s tracks. A dozen or so stay behind on suicide missions to stick out a distraction. All so Madara can escape.

“Konan,” Obito shouts to his friend, “follow them!” His anger is boiling high in his veins and the last few of Madara’s men still on the boat fall viciously to Akatsuki’s blades. He can’t lose Nagato, just _can’t_. They’ve been together too long, Nagato is his _right hand,_ his second in command. His best friend and Obito _can’t lose him_. Especially not to Madara, _never_ again to Madara. He’s lost so much already, so impossibly much to that vile man.

When he notices that the enemy ship is only gaining distance Obito swings around to glare at the fearsome woman. She is looking back at him with a lost gaze, one full of sorrow and anger, grief and vengeful fire. But it is only for his eye with how guarded the emotions are. The resignation is so much clearer; so much more open to her audience.

(Distantly the Uchiha notes that the ship is creaking under the strain of keeping together, that there is smoke still leaving some of the canons and rising to caress his lungs. Distantly, he understands that the ship needs desperate repairs; that the sails are torn, the deck soaked more in blood than the salt water of the sea it braves. That trying to give chase now, trying to fight _now_ would be nothing short of suicide. But it’s _Nagato_ and his instincts, his emotions, his heart is screaming at him to do anything he can. To damn the consequences and act on what he knows is right – or, well, what he _thinks_ is right. Because he still so strongly, desperately believes that those who abandon their friends are worse than the very scum they scrub from the bottom of the deck. He had lost that belief once, but ever since he has come back to himself Obito has refused to let it go).

He takes a step forward, the feel of tears burning in his right eye painful, voice small even as it carries, “Konan?”

“He’s gone,” she says just as soft, “he’s gone Obito, and Akatsuki needs repairs.” Her eyes shadow over, “We head to Wave as planned.”

He lets out a growl, but it cuts short as Kisame comes up on his other side, a hand placed solemnly on his shoulder and a look of supportive comfort on the man’s face. “Obito,” and normally Obito would reprimand him for such colloquial language in front of Konoha’s crew. Would reprimand _all_ of them for disobeying. But he can’t find the energy, “She’s in no shape to fight.”

Whether referring to Konan or Akatsuki Obito isn’t sure. Either way the statement fits as his gaze flickers back to his third in command. The woman’s watery-eyes cradled by thick bruises, and a cut weeping slowly on her arm. Under his feet he can feel his vessel give a shudder against the water; a sign of exhaustion – a sign that he needs to retreat and fight this battle another day. His eyes level over each of his crew in turn, taking in their ragged states of sleep deprivation and the emotion fueled adrenaline leaves him all at once.

“We head to Wave,” he finally concedes. “But first,” with the last of his energy he holds his blade against the Konoha captain’s neck who has recklessly deemed it appropriately safe to stand a weapon’s length from Obito. “Why did you help us?”

“That’s none of your business,” is his curt answer. The sound of which grates nails along Obito’s nerves.

“Like hell it’s not!” Hidan shouts, coming up to stand on Obito’s other side, opposite to Kisame. The Jashin obsessed loud-mouth as full of opinions as always. “That bastard took one of our own, that makes it our fucking business.”

“Hidan,” Obito says calmly, trying to reel the man back from attacking – the way the pirates muscles have tensed leave little to the imagination about his intentions should he dislike the Konoha sailor’s response.

“I say we just fucking kill ‘em,” the man continues with little care for his captain’s underhand order to be silent. “It’s not-“

“Hidan!” The Uchiha finally snaps, shooting a look to Kakuzu – the man’s normal partner – to have their resident doctor drag Hidan away before he can cause any more trouble.

“Shouldn’t a Captain have better control over his crew?” The man lifts a mocking eyebrow and Obito knows he isn’t just referring to just Hidan’s outburst but the way they had disobeyed his direct order to follow Madara.

“Who said my crew _needs_ to be controlled,” the rhetorical question cuts from his lips. “Hidan’s right, Nagato is one of our own. That makes this our business.”

When silence meets his demands he lets out a hiss of air, “Either you answer or we do this the fun way.”

He can see Kakuzu and Hidan shift in anticipation at that sentence – the fun way is always their favorite, after all. It’s not something Obito often threatens either, but there is so little that he wouldn’t do for Nagato. For _any_ of this crew. Not after all they have gone through.

* * *

 

Hay scrapes along his bare skin and sticks sharply through his thin clothes as he shifts against the hard floors of the prison. A bitter taste is in his mouth – part betrayal, part hunger and thirst. His head falls back as the lids of his eyes shut out the sight of his hollow cell. (It’s been a week now, and the schedule for the guards is so painfully kept the same Obito wonders how they keep anyone in these places for long. Though, he huffs, it has kept him here for a week already and has stalled others long enough to see them hung).

There is a creaking sound, loud and sharp that can only mean the opening of the metal door at the end of the hall to his right. The sound of four sets of footsteps echoes against stone. The door to his cell opens and the Uchiha feels his stomach sink; it must be his time, not that he cares much really, there isn’t anything left for him in this world now. Cracking his one eye open Obito catches sight of not four guards but two. Two guards and a small girl that trembles like a leaf against the cold of their environment. Behind her is a redhead, eyes wide with emptiness and stirring hate.

They escape together – a simpler feet to achieve with the three of them than it was when Obito was alone. There number allows them to hijack a smaller boat that will take them away from Ame and down towards Wave. It was there that they got a ship and found a crew. One that didn’t stay for long, mostly nameless deckhands that were lost faster than found in the beginning. By the time they had found all of their current members there were only eight. But they were more than enough, always has been, especially with Akatsuki’s smaller size.

They haven’t lost a single one of them for years on end now – too well tuned to the rolling waves of a pirate’s life to succumb in any scrabbling battle against naval forces. Too well known for any other pirate ships to even attempt to take them on.

* * *

 

 But now they stand one man short, with an enemy who just _helped_ them fight another. He digs the blade deeper, lets the cold metal breach the layer of fabric acting as the man’s mask.

“Maa,” the captain holds up his hands, as if in surrender, but the shift of his weight and the slight bending of his knees tells a different story. “There’s no need for such hostility.”

“Then answer my question.”

A grey eye looks back at him steadily, a judging glint flaring in its depths. A tip of a silver head, baring of the man’s neck, is all the answer the Uchiha needs.

His blade drops back to finds its sheath.


	3. Run the gauntlet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'Ello lovely readers!
> 
> Here 'tis the next chapter! Just so you all know, my characterization for certain characters can definitely use some improvement so please tell me when you think I've gotten someone wrong!
> 
> Anyway, onto the chapter! Hope you all enjoy, and please review!

_"_ _Run the gauntlet" – going through tough times/unpleasant experiences_

Obito lets his fingers fall from the hilt of his of now sheathed blade, eye never leaving the other Captain's figure. He doesn't bother giving orders for his crew to do the same – he knows they wouldn't listen even if he tried. Their nerves still strung too tight.

"Two weeks ago Konohagakure was attacked," the silver-haired man starts. "During the attack Uzumaki-Namizake Kushina was kidnapped." Obito blinks; isn't that Konoha's leader's wife? "We've been tasked with finding her and bringing her back safe."

"You knew it was Madara that took her," Obito states, narrowing his eyes. Because if the way they acted earlier was any indication they must have. "So why attack us?"

"There was rumor that you and Madara were working together."

"We're not," Obito says forcing his voice to come out blandly.

"Obviously," the other captain copies his tone.

"The woman," Konan calls from the helm, eyes lighting up the way Obito knows means she is putting a puzzle together. "Was her maiden name Uzumaki?"

Kakashi's gaze flickers to the purple-haired woman, "Yes."

It clicks.

"Nagato's an Uzumaki," Konan intones, her eyes far away, caught up in the tides of thought paving rivers through her mind. Obito feels a tugging frown at his lips; what could Madara possibly want with two Uzumaki? Most of his time on Kaguya had been spent chasing after impossible myths and legends that lead mostly to nothing but dead ends. Could this be similar?

The feeling of eyes on him makes his thoughts break to allow him to focus on reality. Blinking at his crew's gaze he lifts an eyebrow, "What?"

"You know Madara best," Sasori states, voice as monotone as always. But the words make Obito scrunch his nose up in distaste – just because he knows the man doesn't mean he knows all of the bastard's plans.

"And?" He huffs, "It's not like I can read his mind or anything."

"You were his right hand, he must have told you something, un," Deidara calls out, arms crossing over his chest.

"That was _years_ ago," the Uchiha grinds out. "Back then we just chased old legends."

"Let's sleep on it," Konan breaks in, drawing herself from her thoughts. "I can keep Akatsuki steady until sunset." The way her head lifts at that proclamation implies a promise of bodily harm should anyone question her ability to do so.  
All the same Obito frowns up at her; with the bags under her eyes and the way her gaze is starting to once more get lost in the horizon he knows she should rest. But he doesn't argue, just gives a confirming nod for everyone to follow the order – Konan is scary angry, adding sleep deprived to that is a death sentence to any who defy her.

"What do we do with them?" Kisame speaks up, nodding towards the group of Konoha sailors.

"Throw them back in the brig," Hidan suggests, eyes bright with excitement at the idea.

Kakuzu shakes his head at that, however, "Just throw them overboard. Less mouths to feed that way."

The ANBU go on guard at that statement, hands on their weapons and muscles tense. Obito lets out a sigh, his hands coming up and smacking the set of partners upside the head. "We have the same goals. That makes us _allies_ ," with that he shoots the other crew a warning look to not deny that claim.  
"That doesn't explain what we _do_ with them, un."

"They can't be trusted," Sasori adds. "We should take their weapons."

Obito can feel a headache rising in the back of his skull – he knows his crew is being truthful; that just because their goals currently align doesn't mean that they are _actually_ allies. More like enemies with a tentative armistice that will be broken at the first taste of trouble on the wind. So they need a way to keep everyone happy.

"Fine," Obito's voice takes on the tone where it bodes nothing but danger to any who disobey. "Take their weapons, and everyone picks a sailor to guard. You aren't to leave the side of whoever you chose when you." It earns him a string of grumbles – from _both_ crews, but really Obito can only command one of them at this moment. Even _Konan_ is making her displeasure at the predicament known.

"If that's how it's going to be," a wickedly sweet smile crosses his face, "then you can just take the time you would spend watching them and we can have a personal training session."

The disagreements stop. (At least on his side).

"Good." Obito gives a nod, "Now pick your sailor and get some sleep, we have a long day tomorrow."

"Hai, Captain," the crew gives less than enthusiastic replies, but the Uchiha lets it go – knows that their current situation isn't the best and that he can't fault the men for feeling under the weather.

"Gramps, you're with me," Obito calls out as he starts walking away, but when he doesn't hear the tell-tale sound of footsteps following him he glances back with a frown. "Oi, Captain-baka, you're with me!"

It earns him a raised eyebrow, "Insulting me already? You don't even know my name."

Obito doesn't even bother with a response, just turns on his heal and starts towards his own quarters. (He can't let the captain stick with his crew and insight a rebellion, after all). He doesn't particularly care for the formality of introductions at the moment – too tired to call up the proper amount of propriety to give into such gestures. Although he notes that the second part of the man's statement comes out strangely; as if Obito _should_ already know.

Swinging the door to his quarters open and stepping in he immediately begins surveying the area for a suitable positioning of linens so that he may still see the captain but keep distance enough that he has time to react should the man attack.

"Hatake Kakashi," the silver-headed sailor calls out from behind him. Obito looks back and lifts an eyebrow – more asking _why_ the man thought it important to make this information known then for clarification. "You don't remember me." The words come out slightly quieter than before, as if the sailor isn't sure if he wants Obito to hear or not. It's a small space, however, and Obito isn't in the mood to let the man have any allusions of privacy.

So as he pulls out a crate from one side, opening it to reveal bedding he answers. "Should I?"

(He _does_ remembers the man, vaguely, from his childhood spent in Konoha but nothing concrete – like much of his memories from that time, Kakashi, too, is a blurry rendition of what might have been. He had never given this lack of recollection much thought before, he could remember the crucial details after all, anything else is fuzzy and though he could recognize faces with some semblance of accuracy he can never put names to them).

Kakashi doesn't answer – whether because he doesn't have one or because he hadn't been expecting to be heard. He dumps the blankets a few feet away from his bed, trusting the man is smart enough to figure out his meaning. And for once that day something goes in his favor and the silver-headed sailor follows the silent order. The man even sets his weapons on Obito's bed before settling down for sleep.

They don't speak any further that day.

* * *

The weather is dreary, clouds spilling over from the heavens to release the water that is pulling them so close to the ground. A particularly harsh crack of wood jolts Obito, his small body shaking against the brutal cold even as he has grown used to the constantly damp state he remains in. But the night is yet young and Madara hasn't given him permission to rest – which means no matter how tired or chilled he feels he must not complain. His captain doesn't take well to such things.

"Obito, come here and help sort through these," the man in question calls out, and Obito follows without hesitation. Walking over to the table and starting to help his Captain move old tombs and scrolls into piles. Out of the corner of his eye the Uchiha spots a half-open scroll, curiosity peaked he reaches out and pulls it from the box of yet-sorted materials. Eye scanning over the parchment he catches the words _'Uzushiogakure'_ and _'sealed'_ next to a grotesquely depicted monster with what looks to be ten tails. With his breath caught in his throat Obito quickly closes the scroll, scrambling to put it into a pile containing other myths. But a hand, thick and calloused, catches his thinner wrist. His heart leaps into his throat, gaze stuttering to catch onto his Captain's steely orbs.

That night he sneaks back in; young and too naïve about consequences. Rifling through the pile he thinks he saw Madara place the parchment, Obito attempts silence. He fails, but his mind is too set on its destination to care. Letting a triumphant smile pull his lips up Obito moves back to sit cross-legged on the wooden floor. With the scroll gripped in his hand he unrolls the parchment to reveal the ten-tailed beast once more. His eye scan greedily over what words he can see. The Uchiha's ability to memorize information, well renowned, coming in handy.

He knows what comes next; knows that he can't do anything to prevent it – not in a dream – not when his movements are trapped by events that have already occurred.

The door to the room opens then, but his mind is too focused on the scroll, and before he can react – before he even _knows_ to – his world turns black.

* * *

Obito wakes with a gasp, heart racing in his chest and empty socket aching in memory. He can hear Kakashi shift to his left and can feel the rays that glide through his window from the sun that is only just peaking over the waters from what he can tell of the angle. So night is finally falling once more. His breathes are coming softer now, at a more normal pace and heart slower in rhythm. They should be reaching Wave by dawn, and they can only hope to not meet any further storms along the way. They're running the gauntlet now with how damaged the ship is and how low on supplies they are.

He lets his head tip back against the wood of the boat, the feel of Akatsuki, steady and dependable as always sends a curling warmth through him that serves to only calm him further. This vessel, this ship, her crew, _his family,_ they have pulled him from what possibly could have been a disastrous streak of decisions. She's his hope, his dreams, his home.

And he has all but given that up by allowing Konoha ANBU to invade her. Given up his home to these men who will never appreciate her beauty, her power, her will. Won't be able to understand that the way she cuts through the water is closer to gliding than riding the crashing waves. Closer to flying, as if commanding the seas herself. Will never be able to see how, although her flags instill fear in their kind, in those smaller islands it shows hope. Shows allies, and supplies, resources that they would otherwise pay too much for. They won't see that – they will look at her deck, her helm, her sails and see death. See pain, and pirates who plunder and kill without meaning or care. They will see the rumors spun of Akatsuki, they will see the home of deserters and thieves. See nothing other than a weapon of destruction and something to be sunk to the bottom of the sea. They will look at her crew, Obito's family, and scoff – laugh at the thought they could have loyalty. They will see a disgrace, when all Obito can see is peace.

They will see a meaningless nothing, when to her crew she is _everything_.

Sucking in a breath he smells salt and wood and metal. Lets the calming aroma of gunpowder and open horizon lull away the worries swimming at the forefront of his mind. Just enough that leaving his bed isn't so hard. Just enough that the nightmare – _memory_ – will become compartmentalized information to share with his crew as they rise for the night and coming day.

"I didn't think pirates could dream," Obito doesn't jump at the voice, doesn't let himself react at all.

"Well, sorry for not living up to your expectations," he deadpans, cracking his eye open to look at the silver-haired man propped on his elbows to lean in a half-sitting position. The Uchiha rises then, moving behind a privacy screen he had picked up a few years back when his crew would barge in unannounced. When he walks back out he's in full gear, and without preamble shoves a set of clothes at the other man. "Get changed."

Thankfully the man moves to do as told, but the peace doesn't last long. "Maa, Captain-chan, they seem to be a bit small." Kakashi reappears from behind the screen, still dressed in his previous clothes, Obito's in his other hand.

"Then wear what you have on," the Uchiha says simply, grabbing the older shirt and pants from the man's hand to shove them back into the crate at the end of his bed. "If you want something else to put on then get it in Wave."

He hears a snort from the general area he had left the Hatake in, and looking back he is met with a raised eyebrow and slightly mocking gaze. "If I recall correctly, you took all my money."

Obito tips his head to one side in confusion; what does money have to do with this? Wave doesn't require… Oh. He laughs, "Do you live under a rock or something?" He stifles another gathering bout of mocking chuckles, smothering it against his next sentence. "The people of Wave barter with money _or_ other goods." He waves up and down the captain's figure, from the strange clothe-like wrapping that tilts to one side to cover his eye, to the standard military boots he wears. "Any of your possessions will do."

He turns on his heal, not waiting for a response, and leaves the room – opening a door to the deck and laying eyes on a few of the crewmembers who have deemed it appropriate to wake. Kisame, oddly enough, among them. The expert swordsman normally is the last to rise for a shift, choosing to get as much sleep as possible.

When his eyes lock with the man's he only has to raise an eyebrow to get his question across. It earns him a disgruntled growl of annoyance and a sharply pointed jab at a young dark-haired teen – about eighteen if Obito estimates correctly. And… an Uchiha at that if the facial structure and dark-hair-dark-eyes look is anything to go by.

(Vaguely Obito recalls his name, vaguely and with a nagging suspicion that he knew the younger male at some point, in some way. That he is… a significant figure. But he can't quite recall).

Looking to the helm he spots Konan still there, a young brown-haired woman at her side. Making his way up the steps he nods in greeting, "Konan."

"Obito," the woman welcomes him, stepping aside. "This is Nohara Rin, she's the Konoha crew's medic." Looking to the mentioned woman he gives a nod of respect and greeting. Gives her the greeting of equals – because being a woman on a crew is hard; he's seen the way Konan has had to prove herself like no other man ever will. The sailor gives him a shaky nod in return, her eyes flickering behind him, and lighting up with relief.

"Captain," the medic breathes out, voice happy to show its joy and comfort.

"Rin," Hatake returns, "how was your night?"

"It was… quiet." The woman replies carefully, shifting eyes trying to gauge both Konan and his own reactions to what she might say. Not that they give any, mind you.

Obito can feel Konan's gaze on him, it's scrutinizing and he knows what she's going to ask before the woman even opens her mouth. "You had another dream last night, didn't you?" Her voice comes out quiet so that no one on deck can hear, but not silent enough for the two ANBU to miss it.

"Yes, now get some rest," Obito orders, because telling the woman it was about Madara would only make her worry and leave her restlessly unable to sleep. "I'll wake you when we reach Wave and fill you in on everything."

The purple-haired pirate lets out a snort, one that tells Obito she knows what he's doing but she'll let him anyway. "I'll hold you to that." A warning glints through her small smile, and the soft wave of her hand as she descends the stairs, Rin following close behind. Obito can't help but shake his head at that – he would never dream of going back on his word to her – she would be furious, and neither hell nor high water have the fury of a woman scorned.

"Kisame!" He calls down to the deck, catching the attention of the tall sailor and drawing him from the staring – _glowering_ – contest he is having with the young Uchiha. "Go wake everyone, I might have idea of what Madara is after."

Kisame's eyes go slightly wide at that declaration, and Obito pointedly ignores the shifting of his fellow captain. "Hia, Captain," Kisame nods, ducking under the deck with a glance to tell Itachi to stay where he is, trusting that Obito, Sasori and Kakuzu can handle anything should the Konoha ANBU decide to make a move.

Not that it would do them much good, seeing as they don't have any form of weaponry with which to strike.

It doesn't take long, not nearly as long as Obito had suspected it might, which means that Konan most likely heard his order as she descended and thought it prudent to help their resident ex-Kiri sailor out. His suspicions become more obvious as Deidara comes into the darkening light rubbing the back of head – a dazed Konoha sailor in tow who looks like he's seen a ghost. Another Uchiha, his lips tug down slightly, and one his hazy memory recalls more accurately than the other. A distant cousin, if Obito is correct, Shi-Shiki? No, that's not quite right. Shi- _something_.

"Shisui," Kakashi's voice floats from behind him. The Hatake must have notices the way Obito's eyes tracked the man's figure. "His name's Uchiha Shisui, he's Itachi's older cousin."

The sentence sounds cut off, as if the man wanted to say more but stopped himself before the words could escape. Obito doesn't pay much mind to that though.

Shisui.

Itachi.

The names draw forward scenes of dappled leaves, and soft breezes that carry only the slightest hint of salt in their wake. They bring laughter, high and innocent with a curling breath of happiness – carefree joy – that can only belong to children. A blob of black rushes forward followed more tamely by another. Obito can only watch as a younger him holds his arms open – smile wide and bright – to receive a tackling hug from a small child. One that looks suspiciously like Shisui. His laughter joins too, and it comes from his chest, lifts from his heart and travels along hope and youth to his lungs catching like the last grasp of joy on his vocal chords. Brings life to the sweet air. His younger self lifts a body without scars or callouses from the ground with leaves stuck in his hair and an _eyes_ -closing-grin showing teeth without intent to threaten. A hand not covered in blood moves up and adjusts a pair of orange goggles that Obito feels his heart skip upon laying his eye.

Confusion crinkles his brows as the memory flashes; hadn't his time as an Uchiha been spent as nothing more than a black-sheep, hadn't the family hated him? Hadn't they purposely sent him on that trip, the one where the sky was red as they left, so that he may never return – with the _hope_ he wouldn't? So what is this memory?

(But those were the facts Madara had told him. Those were the details, the pushing memories that Madara had whispered to him when he was fished from the sea; that Madara and Zetsu had bred into him with each lesson they offered. All this time and he still believes them. All this time and he still hasn't had evidence proving otherwise.

Until now).

"Obito!" The Uchiha is pulled from this sudden, heart-stopping realization at the sound of Hidan's overbearing voice. His eyes focus again, coming to rest on a concerned crew.

He shakes his head to clear the last lingering strings of his thoughts; it's something he will have time to concern himself with later. "Alright, let's get down to business," he starts, eye going hard and pointedly _not_ commenting on losing himself in his thoughts. "When I was with Madara we chased down a lot of legends, back then I hadn't given much thought to them. But last night I remembered reading a scroll that Zetsu had hunted down. It had to do with Uzushio and this…" Obiot pauses, furrowing his brows as he tries to recall the exact details. A flash of a monster comes to mind but it is gone too fast for him to grasp. "This _power_ to control the seas."

"You couldn't have remembered more helpful details?" Sasori says dryly, his eyes half-lidded and voice a deadpan. "That's nothing but a fairy tale."

Obito rolls his eyes, "It's been _years_ ," he stresses. "And it was the only scroll that I've read mentioning the need for multiple Uzumaki."

"Either way," Deidara speaks up, "Madara is going after Uzumaki. So we just need to get to them first, un."

"There's rumors Orochimaru has an Uzumaki on his crew." The Konoha sailor with an oral fixation speaks up, the toothpick in his mouth moving from one side to that other. The man's eyes flicker from Obito to his side where Kakashi stands, but they only rest there for a moment before returning to their previous position. Either dismissing whatever expression the Hatake has, or noting the recognition that what he has said was acceptable. Obito doubts it's the later.

"Sasori?" Obito asks for confirmation from his own resident information expert. Because the last time these ANBU had based an investigation on rumors it had led to them attacking Akatsuki with the thought that they were _working with Madara_.

The redhead gives a solemn nod – not that Obito is sure there is any other kind of nod the stoic man can give. "My sources have reported the same."

"We should warn him then. Whatever Madara's planning can't be good for anyone." Obito ignores the collective groan that goes through most of his crew at the idea of dealing with that snake-lover again.

It's not like Obito particularly likes dealing with the underhanded bastard either. But if he has an Uzumaki on his crew then there is no way Madara doesn't know, and now it comes down to making sure they get there first.

"Now hurry up and eat," he calls out. "You have twenty minutes to get to your stations or it's grave duty for the lot of you!"

His men scramble to get what little food they have left into their stomachs. He watches with a small smile, because even if he threatens them with cleaning the bottom of the ship he knows they won't be done for at least another half-hour, and will, instead, bring Obito a serving as a peace offering. Not that it works, because _someone_ has to clean the bottom deck – but they have learned this by now and within the first few months the gesture became more one of sentiment and procedure than anything else.

Obito turns then, to face Kakashi, because the other captain should eat as well, and even if he isn't supposed to leave the man's side he thinks that making an exception for a meal won't be his worst decision. What greets him is the sight of the silver-haired sailor with a brightly coloured book drawn to cover the majority of his face.

A book that Obito proceeds to pluck from his fellow captain's hands, because shouldn't a well-trained ANBU member know to always pay attention when in enemy territory?

"And here I though you said we were _allies._ "

Oh.

He said that outload.

Oops.

All the same, Obito scowls, turning the book around to scan over what the Hatake could possibly be reading. He barely gets through the first paragraph before a blush creeps over his face and a choking sound involuntarily leaves his throat.

"This is… this-" he tries to form a coherent sentence but the words lose themselves before leaving his tongue.

"Wonderful? A work of art? The best literature ever written?" Kakashi supplies, voice too giddy and light.

" _Horrible,_ " he finally spits out, shoving the novel back into the Hatake's chest and forcing him to grab it to prevent its fall. "It's nothing but _porn_."

Now the Uchiha has heard rumors and stories of Konoha sailor's eccentric nature – something about a bowl-haired man wearing green spandex – but he hadn't imagined-

"Maa, there's no need to insult it just because you can't appreciate quality literature." Kakashi interrupts his thoughts.

"Q-quality?" Obito echoes, absently.

"Well, you're a pirate, I guess I shouldn't expect you to understand."

Obito's eye twitches, "I don't even think that scene is _possible._ "

Kakashi raises an eyebrow, "Really? And here I thought you would have tri-"

"Sorry for not meeting you expectations," Obito grounds out, cutting the man off, eyes sparking with warning to shut up. " _Again._ " He tacks on before spinning back around to mind the wheel. Putting more concentration than is needed into following the tide and winds – it's not like much will happen until his crew comes back up from their breakfast. Or, he supposes it would be dinner at this time of night. But that doesn't mean he misses the perverted giggles coming from his right. Gritting his teeth the Uchiha attempts to ignore the sound as best he can – he has more important things to think on than Hatake Kakashi reading a porn novel.

Like that memory surfacing before – the happy one, where he was smiling and young back in Konohagakure. The one that contrasts so starkly with what he has-

The ANBU captain giggles again. Louder this time.

Obito tackles him to the deck with a growl, reaching for the book that the man just manages to keep out of reach. Kakashi hooks a leg around Obito's calf and flips them, pinning the short male underneath with a satisfied look. The Uchiha narrows his eyes, pulling a maneuver that rolls them once more and sends the novel flying from the Hatake's hands. The book skitters across the deck, pages scrapping over wet patches that are still soaked with blood before angling perfectly to slip through an opening meant to let water escape the higher deck when it rains.

The two freeze as the realization of what just happened hits them. Obito watches the spot where the book disappeared for a moment longer, an apology on the tip of his tongue – he hadn't meant for it to get lost in the sea, just for the man to stop reading it _in the open_. But when he turns his gaze back to Kakashi he is met with the sight of the Hatake holding _an identical copy_ , nose already buried between its pages.

"Of course you have two," Obito hears himself saying, voice distantly resigned.


	4. Go off on another track

_"_ _Go off on another track" – to change course_

His headache won't go away. And if the bickering on deck is any indication it won't for a long time. At first the Uchiha had thought that the extra help would take some stress off his own crew's hands, but it seems to have had the opposite effect – the two crews are completely incapable of working together.

"I thought you Konoha sailors pride yourselves on teamwork," Obito says, watching with interest as Tenzou – he is making it a point to learn each of the sailor's names now, trying to gain new memories but this one brings nothing with it, not even the barest hint of recognition – and Sasori fight over which ropes to pull. He's never seen Sasori look so frustrated – at least not with anyone other than Deidara, and that's only when the two are going through a lover's spat. (No matter how the two pirates deny it, Obito and the rest of the crew know that at some point they'll jump each other. It's only a matter of time).

Kakashi hums at his side, nose still buried in his book, "Yes, but that's with other Konoha sailors, not pirates."

"You make it sound like we're some kind of disease," Obito huffs, pulling out his compass and checking their direction before peering up at the stars and adjusting accordingly. "We're people, you know. Just because we don't live by your rules doesn't make us monsters."

Kakashi doesn't answer.

Obito isn't sure he wants him to. Fighting between Captains would do nothing but fuel their men's current arguments, after all. And Obito isn't sure his pounding head can take that at the moment.

"Oi, Captain!" Hidan's voice shouts over rolling waves and piling thoughts, "Can't we just throw these fuckers back in the brig?!"

Obito stares blankly at him, trying to suppress the building sigh that lodges in his throat. "For the last time," he deadpans, " _No._ "

"But it's just making our jobs harder," the purple-eyed man protests, fists clenched and teeth gritted.

"Maybe if you tried _talking to them,_ " Obito stresses, because now that he thinks about it _none_ of them have so much as said a decent word to each other since this entire situation got underhand.

"I've fucking tried! The asshole won't listen to me!" Hidan shouts back. And all Obito can do is run a hand through his hair, because he has seen every interaction between them and Hidan has only ordered the toothpick-loving sailor around.

"It's because you never have anything intelligent to say," Kakuzu states as he walks past his long-time partner. Said partner sputters with indignation, stalking after the elder man in a fit of frustration to, Obito presumes, try to argue otherwise. The Uchiha lets out a groan, because if Kakuzu and Hidan start fighting it will end with them going below deck and that means Genma and Hayate will need to be left unattended. And Obito doubts so little that the two Konoha sailors will take well to him giving them orders – and Kakashi has been so little help since this all started that the Uchiha doesn't trust him to lend any form of assistance.

They make it to Wave with minimal trouble – granted minimal trouble covers a lot of ground when it comes to Akatsuki's crew. The port they dock in is barely full, only a few ships seeking refuge from the storm that Obito can feel building on the horizon. Hopefully it won't hit them before they are at least half-way through repairs, but with the luck that they've had recently he doubts it.

Or maybe the fates will deem them deserving.

Obito holds in a snort at the thought.

"Stick together," he raises his voice above the chatter between his crew, excitement at the fact they will be gathering supplies making them louder than usual. "That means with your sailor, too." He tags on, making his way from the helm as they tie their boat to the docks; he needs to wake Konan and he knows that not one of his crew will be willing to do it.

For the simple fact that she would kill any one of them; at least he will only suffer her glares for a few minutes for this transgression.

Konan and Rin are both sound asleep as Obito and Kakashi descend to the lower deck, and for a moment all Obito can see is Nagato and Konan once more stuck in that jail cell with him. Back when they were to be killed by a small nation, with hay stuck in their hair and hunger pains near constantly digging into their stomachs. Can see nothing but Nagato and Konan asleep on the cold floor shadowed by the moonlight breaking past the bars replacing glass, with shallow breaths pulling at their sides the only indication of life.

Within one blink and the next the memory is gone and Obito's hand is moving of its own accord to shake his friend awake. The purple-haired woman's eye peaking open at the first touch of his hand, her gaze murderous for but a moment before settling on a softer venomous anger.

"We're here," he says, even though he doesn't really have to – the woman knows well that he wouldn't have woken her had they not arrived. To the side he can see Kakashi waking Rin, but he pays little mind too focused on explaining their current situation of tracking Uzumaki to his third-now-second in command. She accepts it easily enough, because they are pirates that have found loyalty in each other, because they have seen crazed men follow crazed methods to power, because they are siblings in every way but blood.

"Zabuza is going to be thrilled to see us," Konan comments idly as they climb to the open deck. And if Obito didn't know her he would say she was serious.

"Really?" Rin asks from behind them.

Obito watches amused as Konan quirks an eyebrow, "No."

Rin deflates, a confused look on her face and Obito could swear he's seen her eyes before but the memory floats right out of his grasp. Which is maybe while he lessens the blow of Konan's easy rebuttal, "We tend to bring trouble wherever we go." He doesn't dwell on the nagging Deja Vu that seems to hang like a fog on his shoulders the longer he stands within Rin's presence.

He has more important things to focus on anyway.

Like the fact his crew is suspiciously _not_ waiting on deck, or on the docks. He lets out a sigh, not even pausing to contemplate their whereabouts, he'll see them soon enough anyway.

(There is little chance they aren't at Zabuza's as it stands, the man's pub is well renowned with pirates from every sea and is the first stop for any who dock under disfavored sails in this side of the world).

The streets are bustling with people, the markets full of goods that Obito knows he and his crew will raid soon enough. It brings a smile to his lips as he watches children run past them with laughter rising in their wake, creating a wave of innocence catching on the wind and carrying to skies building with storm clouds that become less threatening at the invasion. Chatter rises high around them, snatches of conversations catching their ears; talk of small things – nothing large, nothing threatening, no fear or turmoil trembling in thin hands. Even their presence is taken with only dismissive looks.

The air tastes like peace and salt.

Obito hopes it stays that way.

Compared to what it looked when he first set foot on the small island port it's an impressive improvement.

He side steps a group of children racing down the cobble streets, holding in a snorting laugh as one of them stumbles over a loose rock. With a gentle smile that is the farthest from fake he's given in a long time Obito reaches out and helps the young boy up. Startled brown orbs look at him, before a thankful smile spreads wide over a young face and the child is rushing off once more with a backward wave and loud, yelling, "Thanks, Pirate-san!"

When the child's black mop of hair is lost in the crowd Obito turns to continue walking; the gaze that meets his is one filled with confused contemplation. He understands the confusion easily enough, because in a small island like Wave where more pirates than sailors ever make their presence these people grow up thinking kindly towards those who disembark from conventional law. And in turn pirates have become one with the merchants and traders that dock at the island's shores, bringing goods and favors for those that call Wave their home. It is easy to understand a sailor's confusion about such easy acceptance to the presence of those they consider criminals deserving execution. With a smile that is all sharp edges the Uchiha offers a phrase he has spoken too often these past few days; "Sorry, did I not meet your expectations?"

Not waiting for an answer he moves on, cutting swifter through the crowded streets to a shadier area of the small port town. There is no time to lose after all – the faster they get into contact with Zabuza the faster their ship gets repaired and the faster they find Orochimaru.

The bar is clean, for all that it's filled with pirates and criminals; mostly because they know Zabuza well enough not to try anything even remotely close to property damage. Small tables scatter the floor with a few booths along one wall, but the bar is teaming with stools, most empty due to the early hour. Those that are filled, Obito is relieved to realize, are occupied by his crew. Sasori is the first to notice his presence, the others too caught up on Kisame and Zabuza's interactions. The redhead removes himself from the small crowd and makes his way torwards the four entering – all but dragging Tenzou along.

"Zabuza will have some men sent over as soon as you decide whose observing," Sasori says without preamble.

Obito nods; he didn't expect anything less, "Kakuzu, Hidan!" He calls over, the two leave with minimal hesitation, still trending towards the thought of staying to hear the end of whatever story the two ex-Kiri are weaving. "You two are observing Akatsuki's repairs, make sure they don't overcharge us."

The two nod in understanding – it's not the first time Obito has assigned them this role, after all. "And don't forget your sailors," he comments idly over the roar of laughter as he walks past to interrupt Kisame and Zabuza before the start of the next story.

The two swordsman are always filled with stories to tell – they have a long history together as it stands; years spent fighting by each other's side on the same crew. Back when Kirigakure hadn't gone to hell on a platter of too-young blood. Back before they had fled the nation, when companionship between comrades was welcome. Back before the seven swordsman of the mist scattered across the seas like clouds caught in the wind.

He can hear the start of their next adventure though; one that Obito, himself, has heard before – one Obito has _lived_ before. The story of how Kisame had been the first to join the crew, they've all heard it really, and now it has become more a nostalgic telling than anything. One of those stories that no matter how many times you hear it, it still captivates the audience.

Or, at least, the way Kisame and Zabuza tell it do. With ranging battles changing in drama and risk each time.

The truth is much less anticipatory in its telling.

* * *

Really, all Kisame had done was walk up to them at a bar a few blocks down and demanded they let him join their crew. Konan and Nagato had looked steadily at the man, but the Uchiha could see the startled surprise in their orbs. Could see the refusal too.

But Obito saw the desperation in the way the man held his sword, the hope in his imposing stance behind the threatening air. Could see the excitement, the belief in what they stood for. Their name and purpose was only just spreading at that time, especially around Wave with how favored to pirates the small island has always been. And he'd heard rumors of the man before them, the one with an over-sized sword that towers above everyone. The one with the shark smile and sharp attitude.

The one who took down Gatou when the merchant had tried to take over the port by employing the ex-Kiri sailor.

"Okay," Obito had said, right as Nagato was opening his mouth. "Take a seat, drinks are on Nagato."

The shark grin had spread wide, an almost ferial joy in the show of teeth.

* * *

His crew and the sailors are pushed out the doors with orders to gather supplies and listen to the whispered conversations along the streets. They go with grumbles and wishes for more time to drink but Obito doesn't relent until he can't hear their footsteps falling against the cobblestone streets.

"Hidan and Kakuzu are observing," he tells the man simply, knowing that it will get the message he wants across.

"Haku," Zabuza calls the younger male's name, and that is enough for the dark haired boy to slip from the shadows and make his way outside – already knowing the task going to be asked of him without question. As he passes Obito he offers a nod of welcome, one that the Uchiha readily returns.

"He's as well-mannered as ever," Obito comments, watching the door to the bar swing shut.

"I trained him well," Zabuza smirks, sharp teeth shining bright even in the dim lighting of the room.

"Whatever you say, fish-breath," the Uchiha smirks, eyes alight with teasing playfulness.

It only earns him a snort, "Mind telling me why you're babysitting a bunch of sailors?"

"Kisame didn't tell you?"

Momochi shakes his head, "The damn shark said to wait for you."

Obito nods; it sounds like Kisame, the man loyal to Akatsuki and Obito to a fault. Something the Uchiha has always found fascinating; the swordsman used to be a mercenary with no care for belonging nor loyalty after leaving Kiri.

"We couldn't leave them on the ship with the locks broken," is all he offers, eye dark enough to warn against further inquiry – at least for the moment.

"I assume you're not here just for repairs."

"I need to know where Orochimaru is."

"The snake bastard," Momochi's tone sounds intrigued, curiosity peaking in the man's eyes. "He the one who damaged your ship?"

"No."

When Obito doesn't elaborate further the man gives a snort, "Fine, keep your secrets." There is a pause in their conversation long enough for the swordsman to place a bottle of sake and two cups between them. His eyes move to Kakashi who is standing at Obito's side and then to Rin at Konan's, a question in his gaze as it falls back onto the Uchiha.

"Konan," Obito says softly, not bothering to doubt the woman hadn't caught the exchange. The way she gives a small nod in his peripheral and moves to herd the two sailors out confirms his suspicions. It's best for only select people to be fully informed for now, and he has more questions he wants answered than just the snake's whereabouts.

As the door shuts with a click the swordsman lets out sigh, leaning against the wooden bar, "Last I heard he's trying to set up Grass as a main port for his crew," the man shrugs, "can't say much for how it's working. Just that a few people in town were talking about the potential competition."

Obito hums, downing a drink of warm liquid, letting the sweet tang cover the salt in his lungs for a moment. "That explains why Grass had so many foreign goods last time we docked there. Do you know what he wants with the port?"

Because the snake doesn't just _do_ something; he always has an alternative motive, a deeper meaning. Something hidden near perfectly underneath the underneath.

"Not a clue," Zabuza deadpans, pouring more into each of their cups. "Knowing him it's probably nothing good."

Obito holds back a groan, drowning it as he downs the sake. He really, _really_ doesn't want to deal with Orochimaru's schemes right now. Not on top of Madara's anyway.

"But that's not all you want to know," Momochi says languidly, tipping his cup back and pouring sweet alcohol into his body.

"I need to know what rumors there are about Akatsuki," Obito states; because that tooth-pick loving sailor had heard from _somewhere_ that Obito is working with Madara, and rumors don't just randomly appear from thin air. No, _someone_ had to have started it.

Zabuza frowns, giving a small shrug, "Nothing much, just the usual. There aren't many pirates dumb enough to start a false rumor about you and your crew."

Obito bites his lip. The man's right, not many crews out there would be dumb enough to do so, too fearful of Akatuski's wrath for such things. So it would need to be a crew on nearly the same level as them. Or exactly the same, Obito concludes with dawning dread.

"So you haven't heard anything about Akatsuki working with another crew?" He presses, just to make sure – Wave is visited by pirates and merchants that sail all over the elemental seas, so it would make sense that at least one of them would have caught wind of whispers.

"Not a thing," the man shrugs, eyes sharp. "Why? Don't want others to know you've teamed up with a bunch of sailors?"

The Uchiha barks out a laugh, shaking his head, "We took them prisoner the other day before getting attacked. Cannonball broke the locks in the brig."

"Why not just kill 'em then?"

"Let's just say we have a mutual goal at the moment," Obito says tipping back another cup of sake. He knows all too well that the man will find out the whole story soon enough. Secrets don't stay secret for long, especially with how much Obito will need to ask around in order to properly track down Madara and the snake.

"Is that all it takes to tame a bunch of leaf dogs?" Zabuza comments, voice pitched to a teasing amusement. But when Obito just shakes his head, it leads to the bar-owner eyeing him in something Obito would say is concern if it was anyone other than Zabuza. The look passes so quickly the Uchiha doesn't bother to think on it further. Even if he wanted to the next sentence all but prevents his mind from coming to a conclusion, "Where's Nagato? The redhead usually sticks to you or Konan like glue."

The man's voice is flippant, as if he doesn't care, as if the question is simple and something he would say at any time. As if he doesn't know the answer already. All the same, Obito's eye shadows over, dark anger and boiling blood causing his gaze to darken with bloodlust for a man a hundred miles away. Zabuza's face is blank, almost unreadable as he observes the Uchiha.

The man doesn't tell him not to go after revenge, doesn't tell him it's toxic and will end badly. Doesn't tell him that he should move on, forget the past, forget the loss of a crewmate. Doesn't tell him he will lose himself for a quest leading nowhere. No. All he gives is a small sighed out puff of alcohol flavored air, "Just don't do something stupid."

Obito gives a nod, sharp and promising not only to the man before him but to himself as well.

"So tell me," Zabuza's tone shifts, casual air breaking the last strands of tense darkness. "How'd you manage to take down Hatake's crew. I've heard they're ruthless."

Obito tips his head back, "Really?"

"Yeah, one of the best to come out of Konoha since Namikaze left the waters," the man takes a small sip of his sake before continuing. "Maybe you know him as Reiketsu Taichou." The swordsman presses. An almost wistful look comes over his face then, continuing to talk over the choking fit Obito is suffering through due to sheer shock at what he just heard. "What I wouldn't give to fight him."

"He's _that_ Kakashi," Obito wheezes.

"Yeah," the man chuckles, "you didn't know?"

Obito growls a frustrated breath past his lips, "It's not like I knew what he looked like."

Zabuza shrugs, before that shrewd look that says he's going to press another issue returns to his gaze. "What about those two Uchiha boys?"

"What about them?" Obito pours himself another glass; absently he notes he should probably refrain from finishing the whole bottle.

"Do you recognize them?"

"Vaguely," he allows.

"So it hasn't gotten better?"

Obito raises a brow, "Since when do you care, fish-breath?"

The man puts on an offended air, one that is entirely fabricated, "You wound me, Uchiha-hime."

"Call me that again and I'll gut you," he says, although the bite in his voice isn't backed by any true irritation.

"So you've said," the man smirks. Obito smiles then, small and full of laughter, he empties his cup before turning it upside down – a good a sign as any that he is leaving.

Zabuza amiably follows after him to the door and into the street. Once outside Obito turns to look at where his companions stand off to the left but stops short as he spots Kakashi with his face buried in his book, _again._ A blush creeps up his face when all the Hatake does is offer an eye-smile and _purposefully_ giggles. Reiketsu Taichou or not, he wants nothing more than to strangle the man right then.

Obito narrows his eyes, before snatching the book out of the silver-headed captain's hands and tossing it to Zabuza. "Don't let him have this back," he says, before grabbing the man's arm and dragging him away with a backward thanks to the swordsman as well as a guarantee that he will be back by sunset for lodging.

"Maa, you owe me two books now," Kakashi says, voice too-happy, "Obi-to-chan."

"Don't call me that," he answers, letting go of the man's arm and turning to Konan with a raised brow. "Breakfast?"

The woman huffs, "Thought you'd never ask," she moves past him in a graceful click of boots against the road, taking the lead. "And we need to get the sailors some extra pairs of clothes," she calls over her shoulder, a spark in her eye that says she won't let Obito wiggle out of that. But it should be fine; they may lack supplies of food and weaponry but they had gathered goods for trade enough to pay for everything and then some. Akatsuki is a fairly regular customer to these markets as it stands and so they have a good idea of how much it all costs.

Rin follows closely behind Konan a spark in her eyes that Obito recognizes as equal part respect and amazement. Perhaps, if he looks a little closer he can see the beginning of infatuation.

He doesn't look closer, too preoccupied with making sure his own sailor follows along like a good little dog.

* * *

They trade nearly their whole stock out in the process of getting supplies and at least two pairs of clothes for each of their captured 'allies'. Obito shouldn't have been surprised, Konan was picky with what she spent their plunder on – only the highest quality goods would do for her tastes, something about them lasting longer.

By the time night rolled around, stealing away the sunlight and letting the ball of fire fall to rest behind the horizon Obito was all but dragging his feet. But still, he has enough energy to order his crew to take a bath in the hot springs nearby, because they won't have time for such luxuries once they leave the island to track down Madara. They should enjoy every little thing while they can, if there is anything that being a pirate has taught him it is that.

The little things always add up, after all.

Sinking into warm water, steam curling around him gently licking his skin in increasingly pleasuring caresses. He lets out a sigh, sinking further into the embracing warmth. Obito lets his eye squint open at the sound of the door opening behind him and letting in the rest of their group, sailor and pirate crowding against the sides of the pool with distrusting eyes flowing around each group.

Kakashi is the last to join them, and for a heart-stopping second all Obito can do is _stare._ Pale skin pulled over taught muscle that ripples with each tiny movement, sending chills down the Uchiha's spine despite the high temperatures. His mouth goes dry; and a blush that he can explain off as nothing more than the steam getting to him paints his cheeks.

He looks away; more than thankful that most of his crew's attention is centered on glaring at the sailors. Because Kakashi is _exactly_ his type – no that he has much experience in that realm to begin with, but that doesn't mean he hasn't _looked_ – and how he hadn't realized that before he can only chalk up to the fact the Hatake all but embodies annoyance. But he doesn't have the time to contemplate that, not with the worries of repairs and chancing down the snake to keep an Uzumaki out of Madara's grip. And _especially_ not with the fact that the man is a loyal Konoha sailor; that is evidence enough any form of relations between them would never work. Not to mention he's the _Reiketsu Taichou_ , a sailor feared by pirates all over the elemental seas, and one that Obito would bet would slit the Uchiha's throat before even thinking of more promiscuous ways to approach him.

Instead of lingering on those thoughts the Uchiha lets his head fall back, eye slipping shut and mind clearing as the water works each knot out of his muscles. He'll get up soon enough, anyway, move from the warm water to dry off and then crawl into a bed. And maybe it will be a shared room but he will take whatever Zabuza has to offer at this point.

As it is Hidan and Kakuzu will be subject to sleeping on the boat, although that is partly out of their own distaste at not feeling the sea under them as they rest. Not that Obito will deny them that request, they always need at least two bodies on the ship for safety anyway.

He doesn't know how much time passes, just that he rises back to awareness as movements send ripples through the water, and he peaks his eyes open long enough to note that a few pairs have deemed it time to leave. Perhaps he too should make his way back to the changing room, best to get as much sleep as possible; they have an early start tomorrow with helping repair Akatsuki.

"Let's go," he mutters out the order, loud enough in the almost-tranquil quiet that all of his crew can here the order. By the time they reach their rooms the moon is high in the night sky, illuminating their path just enough that they don't trip when walking over ruff cobblestone streets.

The door to his and Kakashi's shared quarters creaks on hinges not changed since the building was erected. The room smells slightly musty, but has obviously been cleaned recently. What makes his blood run cold and a strange tingling settle between the junction of shoulder and neck is the sight of a single bed placed in the center of the small room. Kakashi moves in after him, stopping at the sudden realization as well.

Obito is going to _kill_ Zabuza.

"I'm not sleeping on the floor," is all the warning the Hatake gives before he is falling on the freshly dressed mattress. He raises an eyebrow when he sees Obito standing frozen in the doorway. A challenge as much as it is a mockery.

Obito holds back the growl of annoyed frustration rising in his throat. He drops his sword and boots to one side, shoving the silver-haired captain to one side roughly and without preamble, before settling with his back to the sailor. His shoulders hunch in on themselves defensively, eye forcefully shut and hand twitching to reach for his hidden weapons should his supposed ally try anything.

It's not the first time he's had to share a bed, he and Nagato have done it plenty of times, it's the simple fact it's _Kakashi,_ and enemy by all rights. One that wouldn't hesitate to slit his throat and overthrow his crew to take Akatsuki for himself to chase down Orochimaru and Madara.

But no violent threat is made, no sudden movements or tension building to an attack. And slowly, without Obito's permission, his body submits to the crashing waves of exhaustion that drown him into a dreamless sleep.

There is warmth; that is the first thing his conscious is able to process, a welcoming warmth that makes him want to fall back into the comfort of sleep. The warmth moves; that is the second thing his conscious is able to process, a small shifting and slight tightening as if telling him to give into his want.

But the small shifts aren't like the sea that he is so used to, and there is no crash of water against wood that he has lived years hearing. And all at once the last few days come rushing back, sending a chilling dread through his bones and tensing his muscles. His eye opens and he is met with an expanse of dark fabric; realization comes so suddenly Obito feels dizzy with the whiplash.

"Wha-," he cuts himself off before the word can sound any louder than a whisper in the room. Fear gripping him at the thought of what might happen should the Hatake wake to find them in this position. All the possible outcomes don't end even remotely favorably.

With a scowl rising on his face the Uchiha tries to shift and wiggle from under the vice-like arms of the sailor, but the vibrating sound of laughter makes him freeze. And all of a sudden he's on his back with Kakashi straddling his waist, one of his knives pressed precariously against his throat. "For a pirate you're quiet the cuddler, Obi-to-chan."

"You were awake the entire time," Obito accuses, ignoring the taunt. He glares up at the man, but doesn't dare to move – he's not really interested in dying right now, and if he can buy time and distract the man then he can maneuver enough to grab his hidden small revolver. The man lets out a hum, causing Obito's growing scowl to deepen, the blade sends cold fingers running over his skin, goosebumps bursting to the surface. "If you were planning to kill me why not do it earlier?"

"Maa, maa, who said anything about killing you?" The man's eye sparks, shading a few tones darker, "I just want to know what Momochi-san told you is all."

"What?" Obito breaths out dumbly, confusion creasing his brows.

The man gives an eye-smile, "Come now, Obi-to-chan, we're _allies._ Don't you know you share information know with allies?"

Obito raises a brow, using the gesture to cover up the anger that is rising in his veins. "I never said I wasn't going to tell you." Which isn't a lie, he hadn't said that, he has every intention of telling both of their crews about needing to head to Grass. Everything else would be for only a select few to contemplate – namely him and Konan. And the Uchiha isn't about to admit to not recognizing the Hatake as the Reiketsu Taichou. "You should stop letting your preconceptions rule you," he tells the man, voice slightly gravely with frustration at how biased the ANBU captain is again the Akatsuki's crew.

Kakashi stares down at him, face unreadable, and Obito thinks for a moment he can hear the man mutter out something that sounds suspicious like, _"You haven't changed much, have you?"_ But the man gives no indication of wanting an answer and is already moving on to another demand before Obito can comment. "Then tell me."

"I think I'll wait until we're with the rest of our crews," he says stubbornly, a too-innocent smile cutting across his face.

"I have a knife to your neck," Kakashi deadpans.

"And I have a gun to your heart," Obito counters cheerfully, letting the weapon finally press to the man's chest, purposefully cocking the gun. The man freezes, eye widening ever so slightly, and if they weren't so close the Uchiha is sure he wouldn't have seen it.

"I should have known you would cheat," the man sighs out.

Obito blinks at him, laughter bubbling in his chest at the irony, "You're the one who's threatening an _ally_ with their own knife."

Kakashi hums, letting he knife fall away from his bare neck, the sudden lack of cold a welcome relief. At which point the Uchiha takes the weapon from the Hatake's hands, tucking it back away where it was hidden prior to the ANBU's acquisition of it.

It's in that moment that a quick knock comes at the door, "Obito," Konan's voice sounds through the wood. And the Uchiha knows that she'll come in without permission, knows that from past experience and before the Hatake knows what is happening the Uchiha has flipped him over onto the other side of the bed and tucked the gun back into place. Just in time too, because the door swings open and Konan all but glides into the small quarters. "Get up, it's almost time to help with repairs."

The Uchiha nods, rising from the mattress and letting his muscles stretch out any knots gained from sleeping. "Is everyone else awake?"

"Haku made breakfast," is all he gets. Which is answer enough, really.

"We'll be down in a minute," Obito gives a nod, his mouth already watering at the thought of whatever Zabuza's ward has cooked up. Konan moves to leave, and just before the door swings fully shut Obito calls after her, "And don't try to steal him away, again!"

When he turns back to gather clothes to change he comes face to face with Kakashi; one silver eye-brow raised in question.

"You'll understand when we eat," Obito states like a promise.


	5. Sailing too close to the wind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'Ello my lovely readers,
> 
> I hope you are all doing well!! So here is the next chapter. And I suppose I should make a few announcements while I'm at it;
> 
> 1st; I'm working on two new crossovers, one for Naruto and Bleach and the other for Durarara and Naruto. Though the first is more likely to be posted first.
> 
> 2nd; I have finals this month (really it feels like I just got over mid-terms, but what can ya do?) so it might be up within the month because procrastinating is an art form that I love to indulge in.
> 
> 3rd; If any of you guys haven't seen Yuri on Ice!!! yet then go watch! It's amazing, the art style and animation is to die for (not to even mention that there is a canon gay ship). I'm not sure if I want to write anything for it yet, but if inspiration strikes then I'll probably write something short.
> 
> Anyway, that's all! Hope you enjoy the chapter and please please please review!!!!

_"_ _Sailing too close to the wind" – to be risky_

It's their last night in Wave, and despite the exhaustion of hard labor for days on end his crew is in high spirits. Cheers roaring into the air of the bar that Momochi saw fit to shut down for their private use. Something about not wanting to scare away any regulars with their antics; though Obito suspects it's more along the lines of wanting to join their celebrations himself if how much alcohol the swordsman is downing is any indication.

With a tugging smile the Uchiha takes a soft sip of sweetly warmed sake; because this is when being the captain of Akatsuki is most rewarding – when his family is in company that are no longer sneering, when they can lift a glass and not feel the weight of more pressing issues in its contents. And maybe in the morning when hangovers strangle away most of this joy and the sailors come back to their senses in realizing that joking with pirates stands stiffly against their morals; maybe then it will be less appealing. (Although, Obito thinks that the sailors have started to warm up to them more, and vice versa. These past few days serving to push the two crews together whether they like it or not). But for now Obito will revel in this aching happiness, let it fill him and sooth raw nerves.

Even if a dreadful tightness in his chest says it feels suspiciously like their last hurrah.

"Here's to lying!" Kisame suddenly bellows, "Cheating, stealing, and drinking!"

Obito snorts, eyes alight as the shark smiling fool turns to look at him in expectation. The Uchiha obliges easily enough, the warmth of liquid courage taking away any judgement telling him not to smile out the next line; "If you're going to lie, lie to save the life of a friend!"

"If you're going to cheat, cheat death!" Hidan and Kakuzu say together, although the purple-eyed pirate's voice all but drowns the other's out.

"If you're going to steal, steal the heart of the one you love," Konan speaks up, cheeks slightly pink from liquor. (And for a moment the Uchiha can pretend that Nagato's voice fills in a space beside the purple-haired pirate's).

"And if you're going to drink," Diedara and Sasori start, hopping in on their part.

And all at once, Akatsuki's crew cries to the ceiling, the stars and the very seas they live on, "Drink with friends both old and new!"

Empty cups hit the wooden tables with a round of laughing cheers and the call for more. They're lucky, Obito thinks, that Zabuza is giving them a discount on their drinks.

Kakashi sits languidly to the side watching everything with what Obito can only pin down as amusement. His eyes looking from his crew to the pirates, but the Uchiha can feel how much longer that grey-eyed gaze lingers on him. The sensation sending a strange shiver curling down his spine as he studies the faint ripples in his sake cup.

"Haku," the Uchiha greets as the younger boy comes to sit on a stool by the captain's side.

"Uchiha-san," the boy says softly back.

He snorts at the title, "I've told you, just Obito is fine."

"Uchiha-san," the boy counters stubbornly, and it is the most rebellion against an order the Uchiha has ever seen the boy give. "I hope you have fair winds and following seas," Haku tips his head, spilling locks of hair over slim shoulders as young eyes spark. Obito smiles then; thankful and warm. He reaches out to ruffle the boys hair ignoring the protestant scrunch of a pale nose.

"Thank you," he says sincerely.

To be blessed by a mermaid is a rare gift, after all.

There's a stumbling clatter and he looks up in time to catch sight of Deidara and Shisui sprinting for the door as Sasori and Tenzou fall to the floor from their bench. Obito shakes his head in long-suffering amusement. He has little doubt Konan will follow after like death itself in a glorious wrapping of shimmering metal that threatens all four enough to slink back into the bar with no further transgressions.

But Zabuza is getting up as well with a threat shouted after that they better not attract any unwanted attention. The others in the room only snicker, leaning further together and as their whispers fall victim to alcoholic levels of volume Obito can pick out numbers being thrown out.

"Shouldn't you stop your men from betting money they don't have?" Haku questions, and for a moment Obito is confused, thinking the boy is talking to him. But Kakashi is the one to answer and it clicks.

"It might teach them not to gamble," the silver-headed man drawls lazily, waving off the younger's concern.

"They may not even remember by morning," the boy says taking his leave at the call from the table of pirates and sailors for more alcohol.

Silence settles between the two captains, the nose from their crews more than enough to make up for their own quiet. It's another two cups of sake before Kakashi speaks up, "What was that cheer before?"

Obito blinks at the man, his mind addled enough that he has to think about what the man is referring to. When it does finally click a small smile, soft and nostalgically worn, spreads his mouth as he gives a one-shouldered shrug, "It's something Nagato said an old friend used to have their crew say when drinking."

It's become a tradition, really, ever since they settled with the crew they have now.

Kakashi takes it at face value and the silence resettles.

* * *

 

Haku was right. Neither of their crews remember in the morning, and the Uchiha can do nothing but smile in humor at their groans of pain. He, himself, felt a small sting at the bursts of light making it through the curtains but nothing nearly as bad.

Zabuza forces all of them to down a grueling 'hangover cure' before they're allowed to leave. The concoction tastes like gunpowder and raw eggs, and Obito knows that even if they threaten to never drink here again if this is the outcome it's a lie.

All the same the strange mixture works as always and they leave within the hour, boarding their ship and waving a promised see-you-later to the swordsman and mermaid standing on the edge of the docks.

A promise that Obito has ever intention to keep – hopefully under more favorable means.

"So where we headed, Captain?" Kisame calls out, sharp teeth glinting in the morning light, his sailor standing straight faced right by the man's side. (A bit closer and a bit more relaxed than when they started all this, Obito notes with a small approving tug of lips).

"North, towards Grass," Obito calls out so that all of them may hear him. "He's using it as a main port now."

"So the snake is nesting," Sasori comments, voice monotone but there is a steely look in the redhead's eyes. No doubt from a slight bitter resentment towards Orochimaru; the two used to be close when the man was still a part of Akatsuki's crew, and the man leaving had hit the ex-Suna sailor hardest.

* * *

 

They skirt the same islands on their way to Grass, taking a few days extra by taking the longer route that keeps them as far from the major seas as possible when trying to navigate. The weather is in their favor, the winds carrying them at knots Obito can only dream of when racing against the tides. It brings a frown to his face – something will go wrong soon, some unexpected twist in their plans that risks too much and gains too little.

Although the feeling could be chalked up to the nauseas thought of having to deal with Orochimaru. But they have no choice; they need to get Nagato back, after all.

(And he supposes Kushina, too. Because he isn't sure the Konoha sailors will take kindly to not retrieving their own Uzumaki after all of this).

The extra hands, Obito learns, are a lot more welcome now than they were when they first started – the hostility and disorganization having petered off after days of working together to repair the ship. What's more is that they can have proper shifts now – Obito, Sasori, Deidara, and Kisame with their respective sailors take over the day shifts. From dawn till dusk they deal with keep the ship on course, while at night Konan, Hidan, and Kakuzu with their sailors navigate by star and moonlight.

It's the first time in a long time that the crew haven't spent days on end awake with few and far between breaks for sleep and food.

The first night that had seen the start of this new routine also broke through a part of the Uchiha's comfort zone. Or, well, _Kakashi_ broke through part of his comfort zone. The Hatake and he had moved to the captain's quarters to take their rest after a quick meal, but when Obito had moved from behind the changing screen it was to the sight of Kakashi already in night-wear and sprawled over half of the bed. When Obito had gave him a pointed look the silver-headed man had only raised an eyebrow and purposefully settled further into the sheets.

"What's wrong, Obi-to-chan?" The ANBU taunted, "We've been sharing a bed all week."

It's true; they have spent all week in the same bed, but now the Uchiha had properly threatened the man about ever pulling a stunt like he had the first night. Apparently the others in the crews had had to do the same, and it's part of the reason they have become more amiable towards each other. All the same Obito glares while Kakashi only bothers himself with burying his face in that perverted book of his. (Zabuza had given it back, despite Obito's protests, after having apparently read through it and _seen nothing wrong with it_ ). With a silent sigh the Uchiha gives in; he was tired and any good braver of the seas knows to take whatever rest you can whenever you can despite the circumstances.

Which is how Obito has been forced to share a bed with an enemy-turned-tentative-ally for the past few days.

They arrive in Grass that day, just as the sun starts to dip towards the horizon, when the streets are bursting in their height of activity. The docks, thankfully, have a few open spaces and from the rows of ships the Uchiha can spot, easily, the one marked as 'Oto'. So the snake is still here. They won't stay long, just enough to warn the snake and listen for a few rumors about any sightings of Kaguya.

The dock is musty, air filled with smoke and polluted by the shouts of bartering salesmen, the wooden supports encrusted with barnacles creak against each push of water. But the people seem to be in higher cheer than Obito has ever seen them; although the last time they were here there was an influx of foreign goods the men and women of this place still held that same solemn look about them. Now it is livelier, with children playing in the streets and more than half the market open for selling goods beyond their famed sake.

The island had been prosperous once, a long time ago, famed for their delicious brand of sake. But a two years streak of bad crops and less and less merchants sought out their shores. It has taken so much longer for them to bounce back from their economic depression; but Obito suspects that Orochimaru's sudden interest in trading goods with them has something to do with it.

"Kisame," Obito calls out as they tie off the last of the ropes, "you're in charge while Konan and I are gone. No one is to leave the ship."

There is a shouted, "Hai, Captain!" And the Uchiha and his companions are jumping onto the port, already striding into the crowd of civilians, sailors, and pirates alike.

It doesn't take as long as the Uchiha expected to find the snake, a stall towards the end of the market stands advertising the sale of foreign medicines. He orders Konan, in short terms, to find a table at the café a few stores back and wait him to bring the snake there. She follows without complaint, dragging the two sailors with her.

Approaching the stall he can see a silver-haired weather-roughened individual with glasses perched on a slim nose sat behind the wooden table. But it isn't Kabuto that the Uchiha fixes his gaze on, no, it's the pale man with yellow eyes that sits in the darkened shadows at the back of the stall. The one with a snake wrapped around his arm and shoulders, lazily running slim fingers down the scaled animal.

"Orochimaru," Obito intones, voice filtered of all its hostility and tightness to be nothing but a greeting demanding attention.

Ink-black hair slides like a waterfall with the movement of the famed pirate, "It's been a long time." The words come out a hiss, slithering through the mid-afternoon air, " _Captain_."

He feels his eye twitch, the snake has always been a bastard, and although the Uchiha can pinpoint some of his more pleasant qualities he has never been able to weigh them against the man's selfish ways. On more than one occasion Obito had feared the man would simply abandon a member of the crew if they proved to be injured during a raid or fight. It's not a worry he wants to have; he wants to be able to _trust_ his crew, _needs_ to.

"Not long enough," he mutters, the words kept low so as to not let the snake hear. But from the widening grin on the pale man's face Obito suspects he has regardless.

"To what do I owe this unexpected honor," the snake inclines his head, eyes alight with mockery, which Obito promptly ignores.

"A warning."

"Oh," the snake leans forward, clearly interested, "and what would that be?"

"Not here," he tells the snake, "if you want the information then follow me."

He can see the contemplation in the man's eyes, the weighing of his options and gauging whether or not it is all a trap. But Obito has made himself entirely non-threatening, has shown himself relaxed and his hands are in the open with only obvious moves if he were to grab a weapon.

The snake gives a nod, he glances back once into the stall and both Kabuto and a redheaded girl Obito has yet to meet flank the snake. "Lead the way, Uchiha-hime."

"You and Zabuza," Obito huffs, turning on his heal, but keeping the snake in his peripheral, "I'm going to gut _both_ of you."

All it earns him is a chuckle, "You're welcome to try. But I'm afraid there's a line."

"Why am I not surprised?" The Uchiha snorts. Weaving through the crowd Obito ducks into the café he had told Konan to wait for him in, he spots them in the back corner at one of the larger yet more secluded tables. When he finally slides into a chair with a pointed look at the others remaining Obito isn't at all shocked to see the scowl of disgust on the snake's face.

The man has never been inclined towards loyal Konoha sailors; having defected long ago after they had refused to let the snake go off on wild chases for a cure for mortality. The snake had approached them not long after his defection, requesting protection from Konoha in exchange for being a part of the crew and helping them on their travels. In the end it had been for much the same reason as Konoha that the snake had defected from the Uchiha's crew. After one too many of their less permanent members had been lost in the beginning to his antics the Uchiha had put his foot down, saying enough was enough and refusing his next request for such a scavenger hunt. The exhibition that the snake outlined had been extremely dangerous, near impossible, and all on the rumor of a fountain of youth. The man left with Kabuto, the two creating their own crew and going out to find the fountain themselves.

From the stories the Uchiha has heard only seven or so pirates survived the trip out the thirty that had gone on it. They hadn't even found the fountain at that.

And despite losing two strong crew members Obito still has yet to regret his decision to refuse (for obvious reasons he likes to think). Because the snake and him are still, technically, allies, and although they don't talk much or call upon the other often they still old to that treaty.

"I never thought you would stoop so low as to work with Konoha _scum,"_ the captain sneers, face distorted and voice a hissing threat.

_'_ _That's rich coming from you.'_ Obito wants to say, but settles for shaking his head instead, "We're only working together until Madara is defeated."

At the name of the Uchiha, Obito can see a shift in the snake's interest. "What does Madara have to do with this?" And maybe the word isn't spat out the same way Konoha was but Orochimaru says the man's name like it's a curse itself. Like it leaves a bitter taste on the back of the snake's tongue as much as it does for Obito.

"Sit," Konan says from his side, "we'll explain then. There is much to be discussed." Orochimaru looks at her steadily, no hatred or sneering mockery – he had learned quickly to respect the woman when on Akatsuki's crew.

The snake sits. Giving pause enough between Konan's statement and the action to make it seem as if it is of his own decision.

"I'm listening."

"Akatsuki was attacked by ANBU Ro about two weeks ago because they thought we were working with Madara." At this the snake snorts, muttering something about how Konoha must have really gone downhill since he left if they would believe a rumor such as that. "Madara attacked soon after," Obito says, catching the snake's eyes and watching as understanding flickers suddenly in their depths. "He took Nagato. Apparently having kidnapped Uzumaki Kushina from Konoha earlier."

"It's safe to assume he's capturing any Uzumaki he can," Konan states.

"We heard rumor that you have an Uzumaki on your crew," Obito picks up, eyes skittering to the red-haired girl he doesn't recognize.

"What use does he have for Uzumaki?" The snake questions, leaning in, and Obito can tell there is a slight concern in his eyes. That there is a protective look, almost, and it's then that the Uchiha understands the snake _can_ in fact feel for some – maybe it has something to do with the girl being skilled, or holding a rare name, but Obito wants to give the snake the benefit of the doubt.

The Uchiha lets out a sigh, and scratches at his cheek, "We're not sure. But when I was on his crew he was hunting down old stories about Uzushio and a power sealed there." Obito gives a one shoulder shrug, "But that's just a story. Although-"

Before he can continue, the red-headed girl speaks up, "You're wrong." Her face is set, eyes hard and serious behind their thick lenses as she looks Obito squarely in the face, jaw tight and a fire burning in her eyes that is nothing short of an Uzumaki protecting their home's history. An impressive look for someone so young; she must barely be reaching the age of sixteen. "It's not just a story."


	6. Plumb the depths

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'Ello lovely readers!
> 
> So this is a shorter chapter, and there will be a few of those. I have most of this written but really I'm spending most of that freedom for being ahead to revise and make everything flow a lot better (posting chapter by chapter and suddenly having an idea for another aspect but knowing that it needed to be built up more or mentioned earlier is freakin' hard).
> 
> Anyway, onto the chapter! Hope you enjoy and please review!

_“Plumb the depths” – to fully investigate; to figure out the full story_

It was long ego, when the ten tailed beast last saw the light of day, the sea serpent had made its home in the whirlpools that guard the shores of Uzushio, snapping at any passing ship it found. Sinking their supplies to the bottom of the sea and killing hundreds of their well-trusted sailors. The creature had brought storms down upon the island that threatened tsunamis, scared away the sea life and left the people of the port village Uzushiogakure to suffer in starvation.

A nightmare, really, is what the beast had been; one that was told in myth and legend, given as bedtime stories to the children of the island. But it was real. _Is_ real, or at least that’s what was taught back when the port still stood.

The people had become barren, no merchants sought their shores, no food came from the sea – although small the island was fairly populated and resources were lacking. So the leaders sought out a means to kill the monster holding them hostage. Sending out fleets of naval ships armed to the teeth with weaponry and their finest sailors. What little supplies they had left were rationed for these men and women who would be risking their lives for their home.

Only one ship came back.

Wood cracked, hull broken, sails torn to shred. Supplies empty and sailors half dead.

Those that did live refused to talk about their experience, faces so haunted that none dared to ever ask. But the leaders new they could not give up, that there was no escaping the island with the creature guarding it so furiously, and that they could not go on living with so few resources at their disposal. That was when one of the leader’s daughters stepped forward with a solemn look on her face and an offer. She would seal the beast, using old magic and seals that, after the Third Great War, had been deemed illegal. The kind that needed sacrifice. The kind that would save them all.

A week went by before the council and leadership agreed.

No one knows the whole process, nor what was given up to see the beast was stored away, just that legend says Uzumaki Mito had been a descendant of that mighty sealer, and had learned her art of work. That it was her unparalleled skill with sealing that saw it banned. After all, Mito had released the beast when Uzushio was attacked during the Warring Clans Era. (Back before official ports were founded and treaties made. Back before Kiri brought the great village to its knees. The port had glowed in its prime, humming with magic and lights and seals. Where other ports had few people specializing in these arts, Uzushio was founded on them. Every street stall, every house, every dock ostentatiously decorated with intricate seal designs. Every citizen with even an ounce of magic knew the basics, as it was a required course at the schools. And those who wished to pursue the art further were never short of possible teachers.

The village shown with hues of crisp blues, greyish-green misting over the roofs that painted themselves red and orange and purple, white fog claiming its shores during the rainy months. The people were just as colourful, just as _bright_ and warm. Welcoming in a way that the ocean surrounding them was not, and twice as fierce). Mito had been no exception, revered as one of the greatest women to come from Uzuhsio as she controlled the creature through a series of seals, setting it on the enemy without mercy.

After the battle she had resealed the monster into a remote island with few maps navigating the extensive array of whirlpools surrounding the land mass, using the blood of the enemy as sacrifice. But, for that short time in which she wielded the beast, she had controlled the entirety of the ocean.

The waves rose at her command, the whirlpools formed with a flick of her wrist, the skies opened up with storm clouds and rain poured upon the earth and sea with a mighty clap of thunder. For that short time, Uzumaki Mito, commanded the sea.

Some legends say it was her magic that was able to unseal the creature, with how close it was to her ancestor. Others claim it was all just hearsay and never happened in the first place. And still, others, write about the sacrifice of three Uzumaki laid out at three of the nine points of sealing used to contain the ten tails.


	7. Gung ho

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooo, if anyone of my lovely readers has yet to watch Yuri on ICE then you better stop whatever you are doing and watch it now. (Yes that includes reading this chapter). Because damn it, that anime is amazing. The art is incredible, the characters are well written, and the relationships are to die for. It really is the ship of dreams.   
> And yes yes, it's a sports anime but it is also so so so very much more!  
> Anyway, enough ranting because I won't stop especially seeing as I just watched the last episode of season 1 (hopefully anticipating a season 2). So without further delay I give you the next chapter!  
> Hope you all enjoy, and please review!

_"_ _Gung ho" - originally Chinese – describes a crew joining together to make it through hardship_

"So you're saying Madara wants to take over the sea by unsealing this creature?" Kabuto questions in summary of Karin's story, adjusting his glasses as he speaks.

"Yes," the girl stares the silver-haired man down, as if daring him to say a word against her.

"Do we know of any other Uzumaki?"

"Uzumaki-Namikaze Naruto is Kushina's son, is he not?" The snake hisses out, eyes locking on the two Konoha sailors. Without even properly waiting for a response the man continues, "And my old crewmate Senju Tsunade had some Uzumaki blood in her."

Obito feels a small headache rising; there is no way that they can protect either of them. Not when Tsunade is all but a ghost, and Naruto is probably under lock and key in Konoha since his mother's kidnapping.

"I doubt he'll go after Tsunade-sama," Karin states, "she is only a quarter Uzumaki, you know."

"And if they wanted Naruto they would have taken him when they took Kushina," Rin says, her voice quieter than the rest, but her eyes are alight with a fiery determination.

"So that leaves Karin," Orochimaru finishes off everyone's line of thought as they all look at the redheaded girl.

She huffs, crossing her arms and narrowing her eyes, "Well I'd like to see them try."

_Definitely_ an Uzumaki, Obito holds in a snort. Her disposition the exact replica of what weary old seamen talk about with booze in their belly and a heart in the past. (And if for all of a moment he sees bruise-coloured eyes and a face shaped differently, with a head of hair falling well past the waist? Well, no one needs to know).

"How is Madara still alive, I wonder," Orochimaru purposefully muses outload, his yellow eyes placed on Obito's face for any possible hint as to an answer. And even if the Uchiha _did_ know he wouldn't tell the immortality obsessed snake.

"He ate his vegetables," the Uchiha deadpans, meeting the other captain's gaze squarely and without a hint of fear for the consequences to his response. The man frowns, his eyes sharp with disapproval and a slight amount of anger, with a click of his tongue he leans back in his chair.

"Fine," the man heaves a sigh, as if the word has more weight to it than Obito can understand.

"Fine?" Konan tips her head, eyes having never left the man.

"I'll help," the snake hisses out, a pleased look in his eye that makes a shiver pass down the Uchiha's spine.

"We didn't ask for your help," Obito states, his hand twitching to go for a weapon as the tension starts to rise.

"Oh, but you need it, don't you?" The snake leans forward, eyes alight with mirth. "Of course, my services come at a price."

"Of course," he huffs, the inclination of his head the only indication he gives that he wants the snake to continue.

"The fountain of youth," the man says with a flourished rush of air, "I want you and your crew to help me find it."

"No." Obito grits his teeth as he announces the single word, eyes lighting with a fire that normally sits as a small burn behind his dark orbs.

"Come now, Obito, don't be like that," the man presses.

"I said _no._ " He grinds the words past his throat, tries to keep his anger in check – because Madara taking over the sea won't be good for either of them. And _surely_ the snake can see that enough to know demanding this will do nothing but harm them both.

"Fine, go face Madara's army on your own," the snake waves a dismissive hand, crossing his legs as if he hasn't a care in the world. But the words make the Uchiha pause, makes _all_ of them pause because Obito knew logically that Madara's crew had been oversized when they were attacked but hadn't given much thought to the fact. If what the snake is saying is true, and Madara actually does have an _army_ – which is not wholly impossible – then even though they have seven extra swords it won't be enough.

With the look on Orochimaru's face the snake knows _exactly_ what Obito is thinking, knows _exactly_ how trapped the Uchiha is in that moment.

"We're kind of on a time limit here," Obito counters, because damn it he will go down with a fight if he's going down right here.

The snake hums, an infuriating smirk on his pale face, "Yes, but you see the Uzumaki need to be live sacrifices for the ritual to work."

"You bastard, you-" Obito snaps, choking on the rage building as he stands, sending his chair flying a few feet back, his hands on the table and teeth bared as he stares down at the snake. The man _knew_ the entire time, knew the story, and knew Madara was looking for Uzumaki. Knew Obito would come to him. He played them perfectly, and Obito all but handed over himself to go on a too-risky exhibition for a myth.

"So as long as we keep Karin safe," the man continues without a shred of care for the captain staring him down. He looks up from where he began inspecting his nails, smirk even more evident than before, "Well, then, we have all the time in the world."

He lets out a growl, hand curling in a fist against the wood of the table, eye flashing with fury. Just as he is about to reach for his sword, just as the tension between the two captains is about to reach its tipping point.

"Obito," Konan calmly states, a warning not to make any rash decisions. He sits back down slowly, eyes still glowing with threat, his second in command stares at him for a moment as if assuring herself he won't make any sudden movements that will make the situation worse. Slowly, she moves her gaze away to land back on the snake, "We accept."

"What?" Obito asks in shock, mouth hanging open slightly.

"We need to trust her-"

"It's him today," Obito interrupts. "I asked on the way here."

Konan gives a nod of understanding before respectfully starting over, "We need to trust him for now. There's no other choice," Konan says simply. A distant look glazing over her eyes as she says the next sentence, "It's the only way to ensure Nagato's safety." And he understands. Understands so well because he wants nothing more than to see the redhead again, alive and unhurt on the Akatsuki's deck.

He lets his eyes close for a moment, lets him center himself somewhere beyond the hurt and pain and urgency. Because letting his emotions rule him is something that he had thought he'd stepped past years ago – perhaps not, but it's a work in progress and he likes to think that he's come a far way.

"Fine," the word drags bitterly over his tongue, an acidic after-flavor running slickly against the back of his throat. As he opens his eyes again he stands, not wanting to let himself have time enough to overthink this and realize the mistake he has just made. "Let's get back to the ship," he stares down at the smirking face of his supposed ally. Expression blank and voice dryly commanding, "We leave at dawn."

"Aye-aye, Captain," the man tips his head back, black locks tumbling with the movement and brushing against the snake still perched on his shoulders. With that he leaves, not daring to look back in fear the smirk he can feel directed at his back will push him to cut the snake in half.

He's not sure how he will break the news to the crew as it stands, none of them will take kindly to having to work alongside Orochimaru. _Especially_ not Sasori.

* * *

 

They don't take it well, as he had predicted, but Obito is quick to dissuade any further protests. Quashing down the looks of fire in their eyes that tells him they are more likely to attack the other crew than stand by their side on equal ground. They can't afford to make any more enemies right now, not with Nagato in Madara's clutches and an army to face to get him back.

Besides, they've been through worse, stood against impossible odds and come out the other end only a little worse for wear. They have faced more impossible challenges and smiled with yells of _'Gung ho!'_ catching on the salty breeze. They can make it through this too, he is sure of it.

His night is sleepless.

* * *

 

"I'm impressed, Uchiha-hime," the snake snorts as he comes to stop at the man's side where the Uchiha has been waiting on the docks. "You've managed to tame so many Konoha dogs in such a short time."

He ignores the statement, knowing that giving into acknowledging the comment will only goad the man on. "Are you ready?"

The snake rolls his eyes, "Ready when you are."

"Then let's go," the Uchiha moves away, pausing only long enough to raise an eyebrow as he glances over his shoulder. "Pronoun?"

"We head to Wave first! And it's _she_ today!" Is called out behind him, and not long after the Uchiha can hear a set of footsteps moving in the opposite direction to presumably return to the Oto. He holds in his sigh – dealing with the snake always sets his nerves alight, even when they are on amicable terms. She just rubs the wrong way, all sharp smiles and obsessive intentions towards immortality no matter the price. Not exactly the ideal crewmember. But she is fierce, undeniably talented with fighting and well-read, knowing as much about science as Obito knows about obscure mythical creatures and rituals involving sealing or old-magic.

A sinking feeling settles in his stomach – he's not looking forward to this particular adventure. Because working with a snake is dangerous; if you're not careful enough you may very well be bitten.


	8. Seaworthy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovely readers!  
> So I know this chapter is super short, and the next one won't be much better but I hope you still enjoy!

_“Seaworthy” – to be capable of handling the harshness of the sea_

“To your stations!” Obito calls out as he comes onto the boat, making his way up to the wheel, face set and steps heavy. “We head to Wave!”

“Oi, Captain!” Hidan yells, voice loud in the overwhelming silence of the deck. “You said you’d explain what we’re helping the fucking snake with!”

Obito lets out a sigh; he had said that – hadn’t even bothered to explain the entire situation before, knowing all too well that his crew wouldn’t have taken well to this particular adventure and had been trying to think on a more appealing means of explanation.

He hasn’t found any.

“We’re looking for the fountain of youth,” he states, watching with a grim expression at the varying looks of shock and disbelief on the faces of those on deck. The two that catch him, however, are Deidara and Sasori – the way the redhead’s eyes are bright with intense interest and the blonde’s eager excitement. And all at once Obito recalls the ex-Suna sailor’s own goal of reaching immortality. The way he and Deidara fought near constantly at the start over what _true_ art is, it had given the rest of the crew a show to say the least.

It had been entertaining in the start, right when Deidara had joined them – the last of their crew to become a member. In fact, it had been Konan who picked up the blond, back when the explosion loving man had been running from some guards in a small town near the port village of Iwagakure. The, then teenager, had blown up a part of their prison and was making his way through the crowded market streets on fast feet and with a smile wide with excited joy.

Konan had taken one look at the navy men following the blond and immediately moved to help, pulling the boy into a nearby ally with no warning and forcing Obito to follow swiftly after as they outmaneuvered their chasers. Weaving through the backroads and over fences, through the backrooms of shops and bars all the way back to the docks with a shouting command to cut the ropes and set sail.

By the time the navy men had caught up they were already out at sea, taking a wide-eyed blond with them. Sasori had been assigned to teach the newbie the ropes and that almost immediately led to an outbreak of arguments between the two artists.

Later, when Obito had the time to ask Konan why she had chosen to take the boy onto their ship the blue-haired woman had given him a look preparing the Uchiha for an answer like _‘womanly intuition,’_ but she hadn’t said that. Instead she had shrugged and looked back out over the horizon, “I thought he looked seaworthy.”

At the time Obito had snorted and said no more, but looking back he can see what Konan saw – the excitement for adventure sparks brightly, an eagerness to see the world and show it his art.


	9. Calm before the storm

_“Calm before the storm” – the calm before something big and usually bad happens_

The day is tireless, between navigation and trying to coordinate a route of least resistance with what favorable flags they can fly in specific stretches of sea Obito is about ready to drop dead. Slumping away from the helm with a half-hearted smile at Konan the Uchiha climbs from the raised deck and ducks into the hallway leading to his quarters. Sleep sounds like a wonderful idea right now; he’s not even sure he has the energy to eat if he is being honest, not when his bed is calling to him with a siren song.

Even the simple act of stripping down from his usual gear is an effort he is barely able to expend the energy to complete. We a huffing release of air he collapses onto his bed, eye closing against the moonlight pouring generously through the windows.

Truly, he doesn’t want to make this journey, doesn’t want to put his crew in this much danger. Doesn’t want them anywhere near the major ports or seas for the time being, not with seven ANBU held captive onboard, not with Nagato missing and their emotions frayed as it stands. But they need to save the redhead, and Obito trusts his crew more than anything, trusts his ship and their ability to fight through impossible odds. All the same the worry in his stomach has done nothing but build more and more and more over the past few days of sailing. The closure they get to Wave the more twisted his insides become.

“Maa, Obito-chan I don’t see why you’re so opposed to going after the fountain,” Kakashi’s voice drifts in and Obito tries to ignore how easily the man seems to read his thoughts. “Even if it is with Orochimaru,” the snake’s name comes out a curse and that makes satisfaction curl in the Uchiha’s stomach.

Obito peels his eye back open to look at the man as he sits on the edge of the bed, ready to lay down on the soft expanse of fabrics. “This isn’t the first time the snake has wanted to find the fountain,” Obito tells him simply.

“I couldn’t guess,” the Hatake says dryly, making Obito roll his eye.

“Yeah, well, last time it hadn’t exactly gone smoothly. We had lost a lot of men,” his hands clench at that, jaw tightening, “ _good_ men. And Orochimaru hadn’t even cared.”

When the Hatake says nothing Obito continues, “The rumors she follows aren’t exactly safe, either. There is no guarantee the fountain will be at the end of this journey.” The Uchiha lets his eye meet a slate-grey orb straight on, “There is no guarantee we will all be alive at the end of this journey.” He looks away then, for a moment. Because all he can see is dead bodies laid out at his feet, blood soaking into the shallow pool of water lapping lazily with the gentle push of air. The stench of iron overpowering the salty ocean smell that permeates Obito’s world.

 “You don’t have to do this alone, you know?” Kakashi tells him, but Obito doesn’t answer, simply crawls under the covers and squeezes his eye shut. The boat rocks with the gentle shift of waves, the rhythm too calm for this time of year, and the building tension of a storm settles heavy on the Akatsuki captain’s shoulders.

Still, exhaustion starts to win out and before Obito knows it the darkness lidded behind his closed eyes turns more dreamlike than reality. And just on that precipice between the waking world and land of unconscious Obito swears he can feel arms wrapping around him to pull him closer. Swears the world becomes seductively warmer. But he is simply too tired – already tipping over the cliff into blissful sleep – to bring up the energy to put on an offended front at the action, not when the comfort it brings lessens the weight making it hard to draw in a proper breath.

 

 


	10. Come hell or high water

_"Come hell or high water"_ _\- to do whatever it takes_

Deidara and Shisui, Obito notes with some amusement, have formed a tentative form of friendship based heavily on finding amusement in pranking Sasori and Tenzou. Although, Konan has spoken of her own suspicions as to the form of relationship that the Uchiha and ANBU second in command have. Apparently she has also caught the shared looks of emotion that pass between the two when one thinks the other isn't looking. Pining, Konan had called it, a strange shine in her eyes.

He can see it, vaguely, not as intensely as Konan and Rin do, but Obito has had his suspicions before she had bothered voicing her own. Either way, the prank war has loosened some of the tension on the ship, the snickers and sometimes out-right laughter that comes from the deck enough to lift any dreary mood that has managed to settle over them.

And Obito is more than grateful, because a crew in low spirits is a crew that won't work at their bests, won't fight at their bests and won't do their bests to protect each other. Something that, in a situation such as their own, is not acceptable.

"How'd you sleep, Captain," Konan asks him as he comes to the helm to relieve her of her duty.

Obito can't help the rising blush that starts to flush his cheeks a soft pink.

* * *

 

The world is warm, warm and safe and comforting. He wants to stay there, to sleep a while longer where he is simply floating in a void of nothing. But the logical part of his mind is telling him it's time to rise for the day, to get dressed and eat and relieve Konan from her duty. It's the thought that if he lets her work a minute longer than she should she will skin him that gets him finally open his eyes. At which point he promptly freezes, muscles pulling taught, his heart picking up a notch and his mind desperately trying to push down the part of his mind that whispers to get closer. The part that is undeniably _happy_ to have these arms wrapped around him.

He's pressed against the ANBU captain's side, arm loosely wrapped around a muscled waist and face buried into a warm side. And as Obito holds his breath he allows himself the opportunity to study the man's unguarded – _unmasked_ – face, slack with sleep and peace in such a way no sailor would dare show when awake. It exhilarating that he can see this, see his sailor- He cuts himself off. Since when was Kakashi _his._ He would never be _his._ The man belongs to Konoha, to law and to everything Akatsuki is not. (And he pointedly ignores the way that makes his chest twinge in pain. Just as he has pointedly ignored the way they have become so close over the past week or so – almost as if they have known each other for years instead).

It's the sound of the door softly clicking shut that has Obito pulling wildly away with wide eyes and a pounding heart.

Someone saw.

* * *

 

Through the onslaught of heat in his face Obito narrows his eyes at the smirking woman. "Fine," he grinds out, giving a smile full of teeth, "I slept fine."

She returns his expression, gaze full of teasing mirth, "Good, we can't have our captain tired."

"Get some sleep, Konan," he orders, trying to push the way she smirks out of his mind. Rin follows the woman as she makes her way towards the stairs. And just before he turns his head to face the horizon Obito sees the way Rin gives the Hatake a similar look – one full of _knowing._ Knowing _what_ Obito still hasn't been able to puzzle together.

"I hate them," he announces with such conviction he is sure that anyone who doesn't know them would assume it's true.

Kakashi just chuckles, his lone grey orb sweeping over the waking crew as they trade positions for the end and start of their respective shifts. "I think they provide some good company."

The words are said lazily, as if they didn't take any thought at all to speak – offhanded in a way so significant it catches the breath in Obito's salted lungs and drags his eyelid wide. His head spins on a swivel to lock his gaze on the Hatake, a thousand questions on his tongue and a thousand more piling in his mind. But the man is buried in one of those stupid books – not even bothering to bear witness to the Uchiha's incomprehension.

He lets his eye linger for a moment longer, only turning away when he feels the start of a smile twitching on his lips. Heart warming in his chest as the words tumble around his head again and again.

"I didn't say you could read that again," Obito pushes out, lets the known banter shove down the swelling sentiments and move past the sudden tension he feels settle on his mind like an anchor.

"Maa, I'm a captain too you know." And Obito has never been more thankful for that verbal tick.

"Not on this ship you're not."

"Once a captian, always a captain," Kakashi counters, and suddenly there is a heat pressed along his back and hands running down his arms to cover his own. Obito stiffens even more when a chin rests against his shoulder, hot breath bleeding through a fabric mask to sprawl only his exposed skin. "Would you like me to prove it, Obi-to-chan?"

He can feel heat rising like a wave across his cheeks, but as soon as the man had appeared he is gone and leaving Obito's back open to the cool whispering caresses of sea-air.

His mind is too fuzzy to think of a proper response in time. And by the time he does the moment has long since passed him by.

* * *

 

They'll arrive in wave by mid-day and Obito knows that those who will only get a few hours of shut eye will be in moods worthy of hell, but this stop should be short and he may very well let them sleep it through. Even if that means facing Konan's stern face of disapproval when he wakes her next.

A disapproving Konan is ten times better than a sleep deprived Konan, after all. And quite frankly Hidan tends to be even _ruder_ when he fails to properly rest. There is _no way_ they won't make a scene should that happen.

Zabuza is far from surprised at seeing them again, although the sight of the snake and their request does pull a look of shock from the swordsman. (Obito suspects the man had thought they were there for more information or to request his help, the real reason is much more demanding).

"You want _what?_ "

Orochimaru gives the man a spreading smirk, "A mermaid's tear."


	11. Toe the line

_“Toe the line” – to be risky, to push for something_

“A mermaid’s tear,” Zabuza says flatly, eyes protectively dangerous, and fingers twitching for the hilt of the sword he keeps hung over the bar. “Why?”

It’s a fair question, any logical person would ask, and Obito sees no problem with answering. “The snake is hunting the fountain, again.”

It earns him a bark of laughter, one that comes sudden and from the belly of the swordsman, higher pitched on a mocking note than it has to be. Because Zabuza dislikes Orochimaru just as much as any of them, and will take any opportunity to rub the snake’s face into a tease.

“The fountain is a myth,” the ex-Kiri sailor says with a sharp grin, “I’m not giving you a tear for a myth.”

“It’s either you give it to us or I leave the Uchiha and his merry crew to fight an army alone.” The snake counters, all too happy to play this card. A sure fire win.

“Army?” Zabuza questions with a raised eyebrow.

“Madara’s,” Obito sighs out. And he’s more than happy to have come here first, because at least the swordsman can clear up any false information that the snake may have given.

The man nods, a weary look in his eyes, “A few days after you left I heard that there was an influx of pirates baring his symbol. I hadn’t thought it was that bad though.”

Obito feel his heart sink and can only pray it doesn’t show on his face. No need to show weakness in front of the snake. He had hoped it was all an elaborate lie. Had hoped and prayed and wished and dreamed.

Seems the fates aren’t in his favor. Again.

“Alright then,” Zabuza huffs out, moving from his towering position to duck into the back room with a glance at Haku to tell the boy not to let them pull anything while he’s gone. Most likely the man doesn’t want to give up his liquor.

“I’ll give you this,” Zabuza says as he reenters, looking straight at Obito. “On one condition. You let Haku and I join you. Either we’re all in or nothing.”

Obito smiles, relief and excitement mixing into an odd tilt of his lips. “Deal.”

The grin it earns him has more Kisame in it than Obito has ever seen the swordsman give.

“Be ready in ten,” Obito orders, his own smile pulling to meet Momochi’s. He can even see Haku’s lips twitch, and eyes spark with happiness. The mermaid no doubt eager to be so close to the sea once more. Not that Obito blames him – being stuck on land with the only access to water the docks must be torturous. Someone like Haku, who loves the sea so much, must miss the feeling of being surrounded by it.

“Sure, Captain-hime,” Zabuza gives a mock salute with a glance at Haku the two move off to gather their supplies. And not even seven minutes later they return. The swordsman reaching up with eager hands to grab his blade from above the line of bottles filled with alcohol. He straps it securely to his back with a satisfied shifting of his shoulders. His muscles and stance moving instinctively to accommodate the extra weight and bulk – even after years of not carrying the sword the man so easily holds it. It’s the mark of a true swordsman, Kisame had once said, one that has a bond with his blade beyond just the joy of holding a weapon in their hands. They must partner with it, not simply be its master, if they can manage that then even after an eternity apart a true swordsman and his blade can come back together as one without a hitch.

“So,” the man idly says as he locks the premise with a sign of closure until further notice posted across the door. They don’t actually hate the snake, despite how much dislike they hold towards working with him, and it’s made obvious by the question the swordsman asks. “What pronoun is it today and where are we headed?”

 “Him, and Sunagakure,” Orochimaru answers, “to a cave hidden in the sand dunes.”

“Do you know how to find it?”

“No,” the snake says entirely flippantly. “But there is a map.”

Obito holds in a sigh, resisting the urge to simply behead the man right then. “And where do we find this map?”

“Suna’s vaults.” The snake smiles. Eyes gleaming in the mid-afternoon light.

“Of course,” Obito hears Kakashi mumble from his side and can’t help but agree. _Of course_ the snake just _has_ to make their lives that much more difficult. But it is no wonder why the man had wanted to wait until Obito and his crew needed some form of favor from him. Someone who knows Suna’s inner workings is needed to complete it, and the only pirate with knowledge that goes that deep is Sasori. A particularly biased man when it comes to Orochimaru – for good reason too.

“And what exactly is in this cave?”

“A cup.”

“A cup.” Obito’s voice goes dryly flat. “You’re dragging us through enemy territory to get a _cup_.”

“It’s a special cup.”

* * *

 

The trip to Suna is a short one, the distance not nearly as long between Wave and the port village as it is between Wave and Grass. All the same it’s stressful entering a major nation’s waters, even when they take down the sails and flags they have now. Flying more favorable colours for any passing ship to see and for the docks to not welcome them with a hail of cannonballs. Really, even in this day and age, it is hard to know what most of the more feared sailors and pirates actually _look_ like – merely out of the sheer fact a lot of rumor and information is not usable when determining specific features.

It’s as nice as it is annoying.

They can’t dock directly in Suna’s ports, not when the names painted on their wooden frames are what they are. So they sail past the main port of Wind Country to a smaller town a day’s hike from the larger village. They will leave their boats there with two people watching each ship to ensure that it is not stolen or ransacked in the absence of the crew. In this case it is Konan and Rin who elect to stay behind – something about how trudging through sand dunes not being her favorite past time. Haku also announced his absence from the exhibition, something about not taking well to hot and dry places.

Not that Obito blames either of them, hot and dry isn’t exactly any sailors favorite state of atmosphere. And by the time they make is a few hours into the desert terrain with Sasori leading them in the direction of Sunagakure all of them are feeling the effects.

“I see why you left this place,” Kisame rumbles from behind, his hood up to cover his skin and protect it from the rays of the sun beating down on their parched bodies. Sasori’s head turns just enough to eye Kisame but doesn’t offer a response.

Another hour in and one of the Konoha sailors speaks up, Shisui to be exact, “Why couldn’t we just travel this at night?” The words are airy but come out as more of a whine than anything else.

“Because no one travels this route during the day,” Sasori answers with a short tone that offers no room for disagreement.

“I can’t imagine why,” the Uchiha mutters petulantly, although the sound carries in the heated air. Obito can see Tenzou reach out and smack the Uchiha upside his head, earning a glare for the effort.

“If you’d rather wait until night-fall and be killed then by my guest,” the redhead says shortly, the man no doubt already suffering from his nerves being strung tight due to simply being back in Wind Country.

“Who says I would be killed?” Shisui counters stubbornly.

Sasori stops, turning with an expressionless look on his face but Obito can see the annoyance in his eyes. “Are you Konoha sailors really that stupid? Suna’s deserts are crawling with creatures at night, only those with guides will make it through alive.”

“Well we have you, don’t we!?”

“Yes,” Sasori says pinching the bridge of his nose, “but the route we are taking would put us on a direct course with village run guides. Get it?” The redhead spins on his heal, eyes dark even in the bright midday sun.

“You didn’t have to piss him off _that_ much, un,” Deidara says from Shisui’s side watching as their resident spy-master stalks through the rough sands.

Obito lets out a huff of air, looking away from the commotion to continue ahead. They’ve managed to pull together enough cloth that their heads and shoulders are fully covered from the skin-burning waves. But that doesn’t provide any cooling agent against the temperatures that seem to only rise further and further as the day progresses. The largest issue they seem to have is the distribution and rationing of their supply of water – although they managed to carry quite a lot with them it isn’t going to be enough if they continue at this pace with these temperatures.

The only consolation is that Orochimaru is suffering just as much, if not more, than they are – it seems the burning heat of the sun does nothing positive towards his pale complexion.

It’s a vindictive consolation, but a consolation nonetheless.

Hours, and hours of walking through scorching sands makes Obito long for the cool whipping winds of the open ocean and the taste of salt on the wet air. But they can see the large port on the horizon and there is a fishy sent in the air that the Uchiha recognizes. Soon, they’ll enter the village through one of the many back entrances used for smuggling in contraband and smuggling out pirates and prisoners that are being broken from the village government’s clutches. Not that Suna is particularly corrupt enough to charge criminals who haven’t done anything, but there are always those few who are framed too well for any conceivable evidence to point otherwise.

(If Obito recalls correctly, Sasori had actually been tried for treason in these very walls, called out on charges of killing the Kazekage – the redhead later told of how these accusations were true. He had slipped out of these very walls and even as the port village sent men out to catch him the redhead defeated them all).

Despite the cresting hills of sandy rock and cacti that surround the village from its back and sides it is fairly easy to scout unnoticeable routes in and out of the port. Or, so Sasori has said. And right now they don’t have much of a choice in whether or not they can trust the pirate – not that Obito would ever doubt him, but all the same he wouldn’t put it past the spy-master to lead them into a situation that requires more fighting than would be necessary.

More out of spite to Orochimaru than anything else, but all the same unnecessary fighting can lead to unnecessary injuring and they don’t need that right now.

Sasori, thankfully, seems to realize this, for they are able to duck in the back alleyways of Suna with no problems and encounters kept to simple criminal merchants. Resources is what Sasori calls them – they inform the redhead of the happenings in the port village as often as they possibly can.

The village is dusty, for all that it’s perched on the edge of a sea – the salt water does little for the desert terrain. The streets are made of coble stone and packed sand, the buildings towering overhead and the people bustling about in a rush to go about their daily lives, entirely unaware of the pirates weaving through their crowds.

But Obito can also see the underneath of this peaceful scenario, the way a few pickpockets weave from person to person. Snatching item after item from unsuspecting victims. Sees the way a few merchants are over-charging for their goods, the way there are alleyways filled with lost children – whether because they have nowhere to go or they truly cannot navigate the maze of their home. He can see the weariness in each step taken, can see the nervous tick in retired sailors as if preparing for a threat that the scent of the sea has told them lays just beyond the horizon. It seems instinct doesn’t dull with age.

But Sasori doesn’t stop, doesn’t give any of them time to contemplate these observations for more than the few seconds it takes for them to be made. Because they are in enemy territory for all intents and purposes, they are in a situation that, should they be discovered too soon, will lead to their immediate demise.

And so they continue on, past the stalls of food and goods, past bantering pedestrians and taverns not yet open for the day. They make their way through back roads and cut across main streets, weaving a most intricate pattern through the village until they reach a small back-alley shop with window shades drawn to block out the sun and ward off any potential visitors. A bell hangs above the door, jingling helpfully as they push the green wood open. Inside dust settles across every surface, the building looking as if nothing has seen its contents in years – and with the way Sasori’s eyes had a flash of nostalgia Obito would say that conclusion is true.

The door two to the right leads to a series of tunnels that they follow diligently, all chatter has stopped, not a sound but the clicking of boots against cooler ground can be heard amongst them. Nerves too high strung for even idle talk.

Hours pass with them cramped in the tunnels, ventilation is poor and the darkness that permeates thick and heavy against their eyes is unrelenting. He doesn’t like dark spaces. He doesn’t like cramped spaces. And even though Sasori had shot him a look that says he knows, knows and is sorry for putting the Uchiha through this, Obito realizes that it is necessary. Can push down the anxiety, the rushing adrenaline and pressure on his chest.

He doesn’t like small, dark spaces.

* * *

 

It would have been easier should only a few of them made this trip. He knows this logically, the smaller the group the easier it is to infiltrate a region. However, should they face any form of resistance the large group will allow for an easier handling of Suna’s forces and the subsequent escape – commandeering a ship is harder with fewer people, especially with an entire army of people bearing down on you.

Obito would know.

He, Konan and Nagato had been forced to do so, after all.

All the same it makes the maneuvering of the underground tunnels that much harder, that much ore cramped and that much slower.

It’s a greater relief that Obito will _ever_ allow himself to show when Sasori finally announces that they’ve arrived at their destination – one of Suna’s prisons. The one connected to the official capital that holds all the secrets within the volt on its basement floor.

“We’ll wait here for now,” Sasori announces.

And there goes Obito’s relief. The redhead lights a candle, the space glowing eerily with the dim flame.

“It took us about two hours to get here, which means sunset is another two away. When this candle is half gone we will make our move.”

“Which is what, exactly?” Orochimaru speaks up, his voice a hiss in the darkness that reverberates off the tunnel walls.

Sasori stares blankly at the snake, his eyes nearly unreadable, “We release the prisoners.”

“What?!” Tenzou demands, his voice harsh, “You can’t do that.”

“Really?” Sasori asks deadpan, “I had no idea. It seems we need a new plan, surely you’ll be willing to offer one?”

When Tenzou is unable to answer within an acceptable range of time the redhead gives a pointed nod. “It’ll act as a distraction and we’ll be able to slip through to the volt while all the guards are rushing to bring the prisoners back.”

“We won’t be able to come back this way,” Itachi speaks up, his voice comes out a statement, clearly having connected the dots that with all the guards concentrating in this area escaping through these tunnels won’t be possible without being noticed along the way.

“No, we won’t,” Sasori confirms. His eyes get a wild look suddenly, excitement filling them as fast as it disappears. “We’ll be going out the front door instead.”

Obito holds back a sigh. It’s not that he hadn’t expected to be discovered at some point, it’s just that he was hoping to keep their movements a little more subtle than _that._ Granted, it brings back memories that make his lips threaten to twitch up in anticipation. It’s been _so_ long since they’ve embarked on an adventure like this. _Too_ long.

“Of course we are,” he hears the tooth-pick loving sailor, Genma he believes the brunet is called, say softly. As if he has come to finally accept the fact that Akatsuki isn’t particularly filled with people of stable mind. Which, really, they’re _pirates_ what was he expecting?

But as he glances back he catches sight of the bandana-wearing ANBU sending Hayate a small, anticipatory smile. And Obito thinks that perhaps there was more to the whispered words than just acceptance.

The two hours are tense, if boring, and on several occasions the three captains are required to step in and break up building arguments between crew members. Not that that is anything new, but it does nothing to make the time go by faster.

Obito has resorted to meditating when Sasori finally speaks up.

“It’s time.”


	12. Ashore

_“Ashore” – to go ashore, to dock the ship_

They rush from the building on legs pumped with adrenaline and laughter grating against his throat with each breath. He’s missed this.

This feeling of being alive, this feeling of danger and heart pounding uncertainty if they will make it out in one piece. With his crew running at his side, the sound of their boots slapping against hard ground loud even with the roaring in his ears and the shouts of the few guards still lingering in this area trailing behind them.

Sasori’s plan had worked. The redhead weaving them through the intricately laid labyrinth of halls and doors that designed the capital building of Suna. The bustling of guards in the distance as prisoners make a break for it, leading the forces into the streets and away from the group of pirates preparing to steal into the precious volt.

And now they are letting out cheers of excited laughter as their blades meet cold metal, slicing through the last guards and hitting the streets at an impossible run. Losing whatever desperate pursuer that managed to be missed by their steel.

A map is gripped firmly in Obito’s hand, the paper wrapped tightly around a wooden post and tied cutely with a blue ribbon the colour of the sky before a storm rolls in.

The plan worked, and on the horizon Obito can see the docks coming into view where a litany of well-built ships dock. He can see the intent in his friend’s eyes as red orbs lock one of the smaller of the wooden structures – made for speed as it is, although Obito knows it would never match up to Akatsuki’s racing gate.

The plan worked.

They have the map.

So why is does it feel wrong?

* * *

 

Their stolen ship is left to make home a few yards from Akatsuki while Obito, and the other captains pour over the map as fast as they can. Sasori stands with them, shrewd eyes gazing with easy comprehension at the design etched over the old-looking parchment.

“It would be easiest to cut in from the south,” the redhead supplies. And Obito gives a comprehending nod.

“We’ll need to move are ships to a different port first,” he says as his fingers trace over possible routes. They don’t want Suna’s forces to find them next to the recently stolen boat hovering not far off.

“Then we set out immediately,” Orochimaru comcludes, her eyes alight and mouth quirking up with an anticipating smile. “No time to waste.”

The Uchiha tips his head in agreement, even if it leaves a bad taste in his mouth. “We leave as soon as we re-dock.” Which, if Obito is timing it right, will be in the mid-morning of the next day.

The small village they dock in is more than happy to offer open arms to potential merchants. Even if they don’t stay long – only a few days, enough to trek into the desert and return with a golden cup in hand – the people are kind to them, smiling and willing to trade.

This adventure is different than their one into Suna, only the three captains and Sasori take it on. More because the others are exhausted and Obito can see it, can see the way that the bed calls them with a siren’s voice into its clutches. He won’t deny them that, and this trip shouldn’t take nearly as long nor have nearly as many perils – potential or otherwise.

Obito should _really_ stop underestimating how much the fates hate him.

Because not even three hours in and there is already a horde of what he can only describe as giant bloody scorpions attacking. Ones that, can apparently, burrow into the ground and shove their over-sized tails through the small particles to try and gouge out the group’s organs.

(And if he’s trying to ignore the fact seeing Kakashi in battle makes a strange niggling feeling – too close to nostalgia for him to place – travel up the back of his neck? Well, no one needs to know, and he doesn’t need to think about it right now).

“I blame you for this,” he growled as he swiveled on his foot, sword swiping out at lightening speed to block the stinger trying to impale his skull. The damn things just _have_ to have armor near impossible to cut through.

“I’m flattered you think I’m capable of summoning beasts,” Orochimaru counters quickly, ducking under an outstretched tail and striking her sword into the sand where the scorpion’s head is buried. “But could you refrain from-“ she gets cut off as a tail hits her like a bat in the side and sends her sailing.

Obito watches her go flying with a curse, rushing after because the woman is completely open to attack. Sliding into position in front of the woman he blocks a strike before reaching back and pulling the snake-charmer from the sands. It feels entirely nostalgic as the woman turns to cover his back, but it only lasts a second as they both leap from the position only for a large red tail to burst from the ground where they once stood.

He rolls to a stand to come face-to-face with Kakashi, “Run?” He asks breathless, his mind automatically pushing that sudden lack of ability to pull in air to their situation and _not_ to the way Kakashi looks in the middle of battle. Not at all.

He is _not_ a love-sick teenager.

He’s not love-sick _at all._

“Run,” Kakashi agrees, pulling Obito from his thoughts.

They make it out of the fray, lungs heaving and feet aching – running on sand isn’t exactly _easy_ , after all. But they are safe, for now, and were able avoid injury beyond a few bruises and parched tongues.

“I thought you said they only come out at night?” Obito finally gasps out, sliding his gaze to Sasori.

The pirate in question only shakes his head, “I only said _more_ come out at night.”

Obito huffs in acknowledgement, even as he doesn’t appreciate the lack of detail prior to this situation. “How much farther?” He says instead of continuing the topic, his eye going up to try and gauge how much sunlight they have left.

“Half-hour,” the redhead informs, pulling himself from his half-bent position. The damn desert native barely affected at all by the burning heat. Obito nods, forcing his body into motion and knowing too-well that the others will follow.

The cave is deep, dark and entirely not somewhere Obito wants to be – too many places like this in such a short amount of time is doing nothing good for his mentality. But the cup is in the far back, easy to grab and suspiciously lacking in any reaction from some greater force that Obito was expecting.

Or at least, not until they turn around – Sasori holds the cup, Orochimaru in the lead with Kakashi and Obito himself trailing behind. They almost make it past the initial threshold separating the tunnel and the main cavern. Almost.

Sasori and Orochimaru do, but the cave suddenly shakes and Obito’s eyes go wide, and his limbs freeze, muscles pulling taught. Between one second and the next the walls collapse, forcing a wall of rumble to separate the snake and Sasori from the two captains. The sound of it ending, the last pattering of a few pebbles before the world stops shaking is what finally makes his knees give way. Makes the dark world become thick and crushing, makes his breaths become labored and lost in the pattern of panicked thumps his heart is beating off.

He can’t see, can’t see a thing even as he logically knows that there is a lantern to the side flickering. But he can’t see, can’t breathe, can’t get his lungs to open up because there is something crushing on his chest, crushing and suffocating and sending too-real pain all through his right side.

“Obito!” Kakashi’s calling his name. He can hear that much around the roaring in his ears, but he doesn’t understand why. Why would the man care enough to try and get his attention, to try and break this illusion that he is back-

A hand falls onto his shoulder, two of them – one on each side and suddenly a grey eye is filling in the black, darkness.

“Obito,” his name comes softer this time, and his eye is refocusing, his heart still pounding, breathe still desperate. “Obito, I need you to focus on me.”

Obito wants to laugh, wants the struggling vocal cords to work enough for the sound to escape his shuttering abdomen – because _since when has he not._ He hasn’t been able to focus on anything else in so long, the stupid silver-haired captain filling his entire day in and out of his waking hours.

But he can’t laugh, not around this encompassing panic. He tries though, tries to focus on this man who has stolen so much from him, taken and taken. Taken his bed, taken his thoughts, taken his heart.

“Come on, Obito,” Kakashi whispers. “Breath with me.”

But that is entirely impossible, Obito can’t make his muscles respond, can’t make his lungs work and the last person who helped him through this was Nagato. Nagato who is currently on Madara’s ship somewhere out at sea, probably held in the brig without food and minimal water – the man will come back even thinner than he already is. The thought makes his heart speed up, his breathing stutter further and suddenly his hand is covered with a warmth that shocks him enough for his eye to blink.

“Feel my heartbeat?” Kakashi is speaking again, placing the Uchiha’s hand to his chest and under the thin fabric and his palm the pounding resounds loud and steady. “Focus on that.”

And he does.

* * *

 

By the time he’s calmed enough to think straight it hits him just what their position is.

They are trapped in a cave, in the middle of Suna, with Sasori and Orochimaru having to work together to go get help and get back before they die of dehydration.

Wonderful.

He hopes they bring flowers to his funeral.

It’s also when he realizes the position him and the Hatake are in.

Kakashi’s arms still haven’t left his shoulders although his breathing has been relatively even for the past few minutes. And when he collects the last bits of broken dignity scattered around his kneeling form Obito finally finds it in him to speak, “Thank you.”

Because what else can he say? What else would encompass the comfort that he feels at this man helping him? (Comfort that he shouldn’t be letting himself feel, his brain supplies).

“You scared me,” Kakashi says. His hands tighten and for a second Obito – hopefully – believes the man is going to hug him. Instead the hands start to pull away, dragging along his shoulders, the heat slowly receding. And suddenly he can’t let it happen, can’t let the Hatake pull away because this moment feels significant. This moment feels as if the future rests on its outcome and Obito doesn’t think he’ll survive if Kakashi lets go.

(It’s a staggering realization, one that hits him hard and fast and entirely new).

So he doesn’t let him. For the first time in what feels like forever Obito lets himself follow a desire that is entirely his own (not for his family, not for a repressed people, but for himself. Because being a captain is a weighty amount of responsibility and suddenly your life isn’t just your own but your crew’s too, and you don’t have time for fickle things such as personal wants that won’t benefit them). Lets himself feel the crippling fear of their environment and buries his face into the man’s neck, wraps his arms like a vice grip around him and breathes in a scent that is entirely _Kakashi_.

“I didn’t say you could let go,” Obito mumbles out, because the silence is staggering and it’s setting his nerves alight. Arms sliver around his waist and pull him closer; he feels the rising chuckle before the sound even breaks into the minimal space they have. He can feel the blush crawling over his neck, resting on his face and the embarrassment comes rushing with it. “Shut up, Bakashi.”

There is a hitch in the other man’s breathing, and for a second Obito thinks that he has gone too far with the nickname or hit a nerve. (But it had felt so unexplainably natural for the word to slip from his mouth, as if he has said it so many times before. And now that he has more time to think about all the little times something similar has happened it makes him want to believe that he did indeed know Kakashi at some point in his past).

“You really don’t remember me?” The man finally speaks, his voice sounds hopeful and yet all at once broken. As if he has lost something irreplaceable.

And that is the second time that Kakashi has asked, the second time that the man has brought up the Uchiha’s loss of memory from a time before he knew Madara. It’s unsettling but all too telling, and if he has really forgotten this man, if he is really the cause of that pained voice then he can do nothing but regret it.

He shakes his head, not bothering to lift it from the captain’s shoulder before mumbling, “I really wish I did.”

“Me too.”

There is a hand in his hair then, running through dark locks in a soothing manner, letting Obito relax the last of his nerves. (Yes, that is what happens – he most definitely _does not_ melt into the embrace).

* * *

 

He’s not sure how long it takes for them to pull apart, just that his legs are achingly stiff, joint popping as they finally move at the sound of Konan shouting their names from the other side of the fallen debris.

“Konan!” He calls back, voice full of excited elation.

“Obito!” The feminine sound rings clear and Obito can’t help the bubbling laugh of relief, “Are you and Kakashi okay? Any injuries?”

“We’re fine!” He sounds back.

“Just hold on, we’ll get you out in a second, un!” Deidara shouts through as well, and Obito has the sinking feeling that the blond is about to use one of his favorites methods to do so. Without a second thought he tackles Kakashi to the ground, as far away from the entrance as possible and covers their heads. Just in time too, it would seem, because there is a sizzle and bang and then the rocks fall away. Not an entirely safe method either, and Obito would reprimand his crew for blowing a bomb up inside an already unstable structure but he is too happy at the prospect of freedom to even care. Already stumbling over the rumble on stiff legs and wrapping his blue-haired sister into a tight hug.

“It’s good to see you,” Obito tells her on a laugh.

“That’s my line.” She counters, before pushing him away and shoving a water-skin into his hands eyes harsh and demanding. The woman had never let them drink only rum, coming up with increasingly inventive ways for them to get water, and forcing them to stop more often than necessary to find a freshwater source from which they can stock up.

But even as he accepts it he’s turning back to make sure Kakashi is getting out safely, meeting a grey orb the Uchiha offers a smile. Small, but there and completely real.

“Let’s go,” he says to no one in particular, but he hasn’t taken his eye off the Hatake, and doesn’t until they are out of the cave and into the setting sunlight cresting the ocean of sand at their feet painting everything a romantically startling shade of gold.

* * *

 

The night comes fast, the sun falling into slumber the way Obito can only dream about until they reach his ship. Not that it takes particularly long – they set a fast pace through the desert, well aware of the dangers that come from moving at night.

They arrive safely, the fates seeming to take pity on the Uchiha for once. And Obito wastes no time drowning his aching muscles into a hot bath that a nearby inn was willing to provide at the right price. It’s only for a few minutes; enough get rid of the sand and dust clinging to his hair. He leaves the soothing water with regret, legs stiff, before going to the lower level, where a bar sits placidly – empty of all possible patrons – to wait for Kakashi.

The Hatake comes soon enough, and they amble back to the ship with a tranquil quiet settled between them. His crew is asleep he notes with satisfaction – only Kisame and Itachi awake to keep watch – as they climb onto the vessel.

His bed calls to him with all the grace of a queen of opera, but he changes first, slips out of his clothes and into more comfortable wear for the night ahead.

The Uchiha crawls into the sheets, but doesn’t lay down, instead he sits staring down at his open palms. His lips are drawn down in a small frown, brows crunched together and a strange weighty swirl spinning in his stomach.

“Bakashi,” Obito says, ignoring the way his tongue feels thick in his throat, “Can you do me a favor?”

The man hums in confirmation, the sound reverberating in the salted air around them.

“Tell me about how we met,” he says, not letting the shaking stutter of nervous pounding in his heart reach his voice. Obito hears a shuttering breath in from his right, but he doesn’t look up from the calloused skin covering fragile bone; can’t force himself to even if he tried.

“Kami, Obito,” the man breathes out, there’s a shift of fabric, the bed quaking against the sudden movement of a body.

“You,” he swallows. Thick and loud in the suddenly tense quiet of the chambers. His skin is crawling with nerves and his eye feels oddly itchy. “You don’t have to if-“

A hand tugs on his chin, pulling up and cutting his sentence off half-finished. Not that he knew much of what he was going to say; most likely just babble something off and then try to give a less than completely awkward good-night. But there is a hand on his chin instead, rough skinned and too warm for the cool chill of the ocean at night. There is a hand on his chin that turns his blood to fire so fast Obito feels dizzy with the sudden rush, his lungs going into shock at the sudden change.

There is a hand on his chin, and a pair of lips on his own.

“You may be a captain but you’re still such an idiot,” the Hatake whispers as he pulls away, grey eye slipping back open slow and languid. “I’m not using you as a place holder for the past-Obito,” the words make his pulse stutter; it’s unfair how transparent he is to this man. “Just because you don’t remember your time in Konoha doesn’t make me care any less.”

He pulls the man in for another kiss, “I didn’t say you could stop,” he manages to strangle past the rising emotions in his throat.

* * *

 

The second chalice resides in Ame, and Obito can feel the pain lacing through Konan as they enter her old home, the city in near ruins, the people in poverty. The streets are desolate and only a few brave merchants dare to have their stalls open for potential customers. Clouds hang precariously over the island, promising rain with their presence and the thick atmosphere. There are no bright colours, only blacks and dull greys, hovering dark blues with the occasional dull brown. There are no children in the streets, only the elderly shuffle about giving the four of them looks speaking of war and threats.

It smells of decay; decaying wood, decaying foods, decaying bodies. The sent fills the air and enters his senses in a desperate cry for help that the people are now too scared to voice. Their leader a vicious lord by the name of Hanzo who Nagato and Konan once-upon-a-time swore to overthrow in honor of their homeland and their lost friend. But that dream crumbled the longer they prepared, the longer it took to find a reliable crew, and by the time they returned to see their promise come to fruition the peoples had turned their backs on the freedom fighters, had turned their backs on hope and salvation out of a terrible fear permitting their everyday. The oppression under Hanzo so obsolete and so visceral that all faith in escaping fled with the first massacre of rebels. And when the Akatsuki arrived they were jeered at and told curtly that their presence was not welcome, and that should they return with the same intentions again the port would see them hanged.

It broke Konan and Nagato’s hearts.

And looking at it now Obito wishes they had gone against the people’s demands; wished they had freed them anyway. If only to stop it from looking as it does.

Because the port is miserable, the people in depression, and the hope all but nonexistent. The few sailor ships sleeping in the quiet port have not seen the open ocean in years if the moss and decrepit air about them is any clue.

An island full of sailors once raving for the sight of nothing but water cresting the horizon forced ashore for too long. It’s painful to see.

(They had tried to help, once, when they first became pirates but the decrepit leader of the small village adamantly refused – had said that it would bring nothing but bad luck upon his people. Not that there was much luck to be had in the first place).

They buy the chalice off an elderly street vender, rags around her shoulders and a salt-licked necklace dangling from her thin neck. The metal so heavy Obito wonders at the fact it hasn’t snapped her spine.

(And if they give her a little more than is necessary, well, Obito is more than willing to help).

 

 


	13. Eye-splice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My lovely readers! How have you all been?
> 
> Well… I tried to make everything as healthy and consensual as possible while still being compliant to the circumstances and the fact they are pirates. And damn this took me forever to write. Like I honestly had no inspiration to write it for a while and I’m still not very satisfied… the characterization doesn’t feel right but I know if I wait any longer or try to edit this anymore I will just get rid of it and just ugh.
> 
> Anyway, my lovely lovely readers, I hope you can all enjoy and please please please review!

 

_“Eye-splice” – to unite two ends of a rope; to join them together_

His blood is freezing in his veins, eyes drawn wide and mouth gaping in shock at the announcement the snake just made. Because she couldn’t possibly have meant what Obito thinks she does. Surely the woman must have read the scroll wrong or listened to the wrong rumors. There is no way that the fountain of youth would call for-

“A virgin’s release?” Sasori raises an eyebrow, gaze calm but judging as it rests on the snake.

“There is no way that’s what it says,” Shisui speaks up stepping forward to scan his eyes over the scroll. The dark orbs slowly widen with each word he reads.

“Well, shit,” Hidan mutters, before shaking his head. Obito can’t help but agree.

“Where are we even going to get this?” Genma speaks up, a flat look in his eyes that just _dares_ the snake to suggest anything remotely immoral. (And really, _how long,_ has it taken the Uchiha to remember the man’s name? If only because he couldn’t keep calling him _‘toothpick-sailor’_ in his head).

It doesn’t stop the growing smile over her face, “Well, I think Obito would be more than capable of making the… sacrifice. Isn’t that right, _Captain-hime_.”

Obito scowls as deep as he blushes, glaring at the snake and pointedly _not_ looking at his crew, especially Kakashi. Because he can feel the man’s eye boring into his skin and Obito is entirely too embarrassed right now to meet that gaze.

“So,” Hidan speaks up, “he just has to what? Jerk off into a cup or something?”

“As much as I would like to say yes,” the snake hisses out, ignoring Obito’s snorted _‘liar’_ , “it has to be from sexual intimacy between two people.”

Despite the way the words are said so clinically (the Uchiha isn’t stupid enough to not understand the snake is at least _trying_ to be civil about this, at least _trying_ to lessen the blow enough Obito won’t kill him) it still makes him want to sink in on himself and disappear. Still makes him wilt under all the scrutinizing gazes.

Konan, bless her soul, steps forward with a too-sweet smile, “You can’t expect any of us to agree to this.”

“It’s immoral,” Haku says, the young boy’s voice dancing on the edges of dangerous, a warning flashing into eyes normally calm.

“And breaking into Sunagakure wasn’t?” The woman counters, her long black locks slithering over her shoulders in a silken sheet. “You mermen always had such strange values.”

“It’s not only mermen,” Kisame steps forward, figure imposing in the morning light, growing in size as his eyes sharpen and the tension of killing intent fills the air.

“You’re pirates,” the snake hisses, frustration spreading across her face.

The bickering rising like a crescendo drowns out even the soothing sound of water licking at the sides of the Akatsuki. They are still docked and Obito knows they won’t move until this is solved. Because it’s either one of them or Orochimaru will no doubt go back into Ame to collect what they refuse to give. What _Obito_ refuses to give. Will take from a people who already have nothing. And… and Obito can’t let that happen. Won’t. Because Akatsuki has always stood for keeping those poorer islands afloat, has always sought to help wherever they could.

They don’t take from people like those of Amegakure. And Obito isn’t about to let that change.

Besides, he’s the captain here. The one who is responsible for all the lives on this crew, not because he has to but because he truly does care. Loves them will all his hurt because they are his precious people, the ones that have stood by him; the ones that have _chosen_ to stay by him. No one else is stepping forward, and maybe he didn’t want his first time to go like this, but he hasn’t spent _too_ much time picturing it anyway. Entirely content to not give his heart so easily; to not be exposed and so vulnerable for anyone.

With a scowling, resigned, sigh the Uchiha takes the bottle – anger peaking at the triumphantly smug look the snake lover gives him. His own crew doesn’t dare to make a remark, he damn well knows that Deidara and Konan have yet to find sexual partners after all, and the others understand the consequences all too well.

“Do they both have to be virgins?” He snaps out.

The bastard actually takes a moment to think about it, or _pretends_ to really. “It didn’t say.”

“Good thing Kakashi’s still pure then,” Shisui calls out with a snicker, clearly trying to break the tension building fast and strong, stronger, overbearing. It works, if only mildly.

Obito’s cheeks heat up, eyes going wide before narrowing just as quickly, “Who said I was going to-“ His statement gets cut off with a yelp as the Hatake’s hand grabs his arm and all but drags him away to his quarters.

When the door shuts behind him he jerks his arm away with a growl, “What the hell Bakashi?”

His answer is lips inches away from covering his own. Impossibly soft lips that steal his breath and higher brain function every time they connect with his. “If you don’t want this… I won’t force you.”

Obito’s cheeks burn, eye locking with dark grey for a moment before they stutter away – because as attractive as he finds Kakashi, as much as he _wants,_ he doesn’t want it to go like this. Or, well he hadn’t imagined it would.

His eye drops, a sour feeling sticking in the back of his mouth as his hands fist into the fabric of Kakashi’s shirt.

“I-“ the air he pulls in clicks and shudders into his lungs, “I can’t.”

He lets his head fall forward, presses into Kakashi’s chest as his shoulders hunch and make him shorter than he already is. “I can’t,” he repeats, because he knows he should, knows he has to as a captain who can’t let anyone else go through with this, and as a captain who wants to get his first-mate back.

But he can’t. Not as… not as someone who cares for the man before him. Cares in a way that had made him hope they could become something special, because Kakashi had _kissed him_. Kissed him and helped him through his panic attack. Thinks his crew is good company, and can see right through Obito with an eye that holds a warmth the Uchiha _craves._

He doesn’t want to lose that. (Doesn’t want Kakashi to look at him with eyes full of horror at the crisscrossing mess of scars on his right side).

Arms come to wrap around him, pulling him close and pressing his face into the silver-haired captain’s shoulder. “It’s okay,” the words tickle against his neck and hair as they make their way into the world. “It’s okay, Obito.”

He sucks in a breath of air, clean and not filled with pounding anxiety. A laugh leaves him with relief and an exhilarating rush of _something._

Something warm and cold, chilling and heating. Something anxious and exciting, bursting and settling. Like blades meeting and the spark of the metals colliding just enough to let the two opponents realize the pressure before releasing their hold.

Something new.

“Come on, Obi-chan,” the new nickname pulls a resigned sigh from his lips as the man guides him across the room towards the bed. “It’s almost Konan’s shift anyway, I’m sure she won’t mind.”

“You clearly haven’t been on her bad side yet.”

“And I don’t plan to.”

“Better not,” Obito says as he lays back into the sheets, “wouldn’t want you to be damaged goods.”

Kakashi makes a choked noise that makes the Uchiha stifle a chuckle, letting his eye start to slip shut as he feels an arm trap his waist and tug it until he slides to fit into the mold of the man’s body. “Maa, just go to sleep my little cuddle-bug.”

Obito gives a strangled choke at the nickname, “Don’t _call_ me that!”

He can feel the smile spread across the Hatake’s face from where it’s buried against the back of his neck.

* * *

 

Heat licks at his sides, the sizzle of wood burning cracks ostentatiously in his ears, but not enough to drown out the shouts to get to the life boats, not enough to blind Obito to the way they are sinking sinking sinking. He pushes his legs forward, ducking under a rope and trying to find the way to his Captain’s shout amongst the smoke and falling debris. Someone is next to him. Two someones. He can’t see their faces, only a fleck of silver and a dusting of brown on each side. But he knows that he cares for them, knows that he would do _anything_ for them if need be. And need does be because they can’t find a clear path to the life boats, they can’t they can’t they can’t. They won’t make it and Obito’s heart hurts, aches, explodes, at the idea because his body seems to know he loves them even as his mind is reeling because this _isn’t_ Akatsuki’s deck. He doesn’t know _where_ he is, can’t remember anything.

There is another shout, a bursting echo against the roar of waves and clang of swords and yell of cannons. They move towards it, fast and breathing heavy even though the smoke singes lungs and burns burns burns. His legs are so short, hands small and he doesn’t understand.

There is a snap above, the sound so much louder than anything else that is happening. His eyes look up before he can stop the motion, before his mind even registers that he is _doing_ it. And there, looming and falling fast, fast, faster towards them and his _important, precious, must-keep-safe_ people, is the mass of wood holding up the sails.

His lungs scream before he catches up with the noise and suddenly he is moving, not thinking, not calculating the consequences, just _moving._

He wakes with a jolt, sweating, eyes wide and a massive ache that stretches the length of his scars. Hand gripping into the sheets so hard his knuckles are white.

In…. Out… In… Out. He breathes. Trying to calm his heart rate and not wake up Kakashi who is still sprawled out in the sheets next to him, breathing even and caught in the thralls of sleep.

* * *

 

The awkward air that has surrounded them for the past three days now has disjointed just about everything, from the crew to their ability to sleep. Because the looming - literally, Orochimaru _won’t_ leave them alone - tension is always there, hovering there between them like a curtain. It stilts their conversations and makes Obito’s heart _ache_. Because it’s not that he doesn’t _want_ to have sex with Kakashi… just the thought of all that pale skin and muscle makes heat build in places he really doesn’t need it to when shouting orders. And it isn’t either of their faults that the awkward feeling has arisen, it’s more because now Obito can do nothing _but_ think of Kakashi naked under him with his-

It’s not Kakshi’s fault, at least.

It is also that this wasn’t the way he saw his first time happening… this isn’t the way he has fantasized it would go.

But…

The door to their shared chamber closes and locks with a click behind them - their shift has ended and Konan will try to fix all the disorder that has happened that day. Obito bites his lip, unsure and heart racing a million knots a minute, he wonders if Kakashi can hear the beat.

This isn’t the way it was supposed to go.

But…

He reaches out as, the Hatake’s back it turned to him and with only a moment’s hesitation he grabs the back of the man’s shirt and slams him into the bedroom door. Rough and passionate and entirely unexpected in that heartbeat. Their lips meet, Kakashi’s mask drawn down and his arms going to wrap around Obito’s waist. He presses back, desperate and trying so hard to convey what he can’t with his words. By the time they pull back for air Obito’s mind has gone fuzzy and his world a pinpoint on their electrifying press of flesh against flesh.

“Obito?” Kakashi’s voice is soft, a question tagging along the trail of his breath that trickles over the captain’s lips.

His heart skips a beat, jumps from his ribs and lodges in his throat. He hadn’t imagined his first time to go like this.

“I-“ he swallows, trying to keep his eye steady on Kakashi’s, “I want us… _this._ ”

“This?”

“To…” he flushes, cheeks heating up in bright red blotches that he is sure makes his scars more pronounced. “Consummate... us,” the words are more whispered than anything.

A ghost of a smile crosses Kakashi’s face, “Okay.”

“Okay?” Obito’s eyebrows scrunch up, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I want us, too.” Kakashi hums, hand coming up to rest against Obito’s cheek.

He smashes their lips together, again.

But…

When has anything ever worked as he imagined it?

The answer, if it wasn’t so obvious, is never.

Their clothes come off easily - or, as easily as they can, _why_ does Kakashi have to have _so many_ buckles? Really, there is no need. Each time he gets one strap undone another seems to take its place and by the time he strips the man of the last of his clothing he is close to just taking his knife and cutting the fabric off.

But the wait is worth it; like unwrapping a present sent from Kami themselves because Kakashi is all pale skin and taut muscle, with scattered scars that raise white and pink lines over his body. He can’t help but let his fingers skim over every inch within distance to reach while Kakashi herds him back towards the mattress.

The sheets of the bed scrape along his bared skin, sliding to create friction as he brings himself into a more appropriate position for what they are about to do. Not that Kakashi allows for this to happen smoothly, biting and sucking and scraping each inch of skin that he can get, making Obito wither and pause to catch his breath each few inches he manages to crawl back.

(And if Obito feels self-conscious about his patchwork body and how it can’t compare aesthetically to Kakashi’s? Well, the thoughts are lost quickly as that devious mouth comes perilously close to his already straining member).

“H-have you ever…” Obito tries to get out but flushes bright as the words get caught in his throat. Kakashi looks up from under his fallen silver locks, crawling to settle between Obito’s legs, the Hatake’s own erection proudly twitching.

“Saa, don’t worry,” Kakashi hums, “I’ve read enough to have an idea.”

The words take a moment to sink in, Obito’s mind short-circuiting as it tries to follow the logic of what this man just said.

His eyebrow twitches, and before Kakashi knows it Obito has kicked him out of the bed with a shout of embarrassed despair, “You are _not_ fucking me based on _those_ books!”

When there is no immediate sign of the Hatake getting up Obito crawls to the edge, looking over the bed to see if he has actually hurt him because that thud had been on the louder side. The Uchiha has to stifle a laugh at the sight he sees; Kakashi butt naked sprawled across the wooden deck of the boat in all his glory, eye slightly dazed as if trying to figure out what just happened. Despite his effort a chuckle escapes and, like a damn bursting, he is clutching his stomach to try and stave off the pain of his laughter. He squints his eye open in time to see Kakashi’s own narrow, before suddenly he is _there._ In his face, eye intense, stealing Obito’s breath with how close their lips are. He moves, lips dragging along Obito’s jawline and up to his ear, where he can feel the shallow puff of hot air on his skin. “That wasn’t very nice, Obi-to.”

The press of lips and teeth and tongue on his neck makes him suck in a sharp burst of air that gets caught somewhere along the way. A hand pushes on his shoulder, pressing him back against cooling sheets, the other working his legs farther apart to accommodate another body.

He’s trembling, Obito realizes, as a wet mouth works its way down from his neck to his chest, breathing hot over his peaked nipples before a set of teeth graze the area. Shuddering he tangles his fingers in locks of silver hair that are impossibly soft for how harsh a life at sea can be. He combs through their stands as his lower back arches slightly off the bed to try and create the friction that his body desperately needs.

As Kakashi moves onto his other, thus far, unattended nipple all Obito can think is that two can play at this game. Pulling harshly on the Hatake’s hair Obito brings him into a sloppily wet kiss, drawing out the man’s tongue and letting his own plunder the other’s mouth. Leaving one hand to tug near painfully on his hair, he leads the other between their heated bodies. Finding his prize, the Uchiha glides one finger along the underside of Kakashi’s erection, from the base to the tip, taking pleasure in the way he stutters in their kiss. Wrapping his hand securely around the base Obito gives a more meaningful tug, awkward as the angle is.

Kakashi pulls away then, a huff of breath to cover up his guttural moan. “Tease.”

Obito snorts, raising one eyebrow, “Look who’s talking.” He tugs again, this time making sure to run a deft finger over the slit. With a narrowed gaze Kakashi grabs his wrists, pinning them to the bed in a one-hand hold that they both know he can easily escape from should he choose.

The Hatake then returns to his previous ministrations of sucking at his perked nipples, teeth and wet lips that are reddened from _Obito’s_ kiss moving over the sensitive area. A tongue joins just as Obito jerks at the feeling of a finger rimming his hole, Kakashi’s mouth leaving him long enough to get the word “Oil,” out with an inflection towards the questioning side.

Obito points as best he can in the general direction of a drawer beside the bed set into his dresser, to which the Hatake hums, removing himself long enough to retrieve the vile. But the few seconds of cooler air running along his heated skin leaves him feeling all too exposed.

Yet, as soon as he left Kakashi returns, this time with a finger that is slicked and poised to enter, grey orb with a pupil blown wide stares down at Obito. The gaze is as intense as it is searching.

“Is this okay?” Kakashi tips his head to one side.

Obito gives a short nod, closing his eye to the sensation of Kakashi’s digit sinking into him, slow and methodical. He squirms, panting as it wiggles and scrapes, another joining its ministrations soon after that makes him release a stifled whine. The feeling of being stretched something entirely foreign, almost uncomfortable.

He opens his mouth to say just that when his vision goes white as Kakashi’s digits brush over _something_. An overwhelming burst of pleasure rushing up his spine and sending his back arching, like it was trying to conform to the unexpected energy.

His hands scramble for purchase, anchoring themselves into silver locks and pale sheets. “D-do that again,” he manages to get out around his panting lungs. Above him Kakashi lets out a hum of approval, adding another digit as he leans over and claims Obito’s mouth as his own.

“Here?” The man questions, and Obito can barely breathe around his moan, Kakashi’s fingers still stretching, scissoring him apart in preparation. But he isn’t sure how much longer he will last.

“If you don’t-” he cuts off as another burst races through him his hips bucking up as if begging for more.

Kakashi hums, “Yes, Obi-to?”

He scowls, easily recognizing the teasing glint in his eye, “Just get inside me already!” His voice comes out snappy and loud in the room, the crashing of the waves a gentle roar that mingles with it in the background.

“Aye-aye, Captain,” the man leans in to whisper the words seductively against his ear as he removes his fingers. Something bulkier taking their place, and just the thought that it is _Kakashi_ makes the air in his lungs clench.

The tip starts entering, stretching, stretching stretching. Even with the oil it still burns slightly, and Obito can tell that Kakashi is going as slow as he possibly can trying not to hurt him in the process. He wants to tell the Hatake to just enter, to just get it over with, to fill him to the brim until he feels like he will burst.

The seconds ticking by until Kakashi is fully sheathed inside him feel like eternity and by the time he is in Obito’s breathing has gone ragged, chest heaving to try and fill him with more oxygen. (As if anymore could possibly fit around Kakashi). Above him Kakashi is no better, sucking in sporadic bursts of air, small whimpering moans leaking through with every few breaths, his hips stuttering slightly; clearly craving friction.

A few more seconds pass in which only the sound of their breathing fills the atmosphere, and it’s within those few seconds that the bulk filling him starts to feel too stagnant. He squirms, trying to relieve the sudden discomfort.

“Kakashi,” he clenches his teeth, hands moving to scrape through sheets and claw at muscled arms, “ _move._ ”

The first thrust is slow, testing, the next is harsher, stronger, faster. Kakashi picking up pace with each movement, but it doesn’t have the same blinding pleasure that his fingers had sought out. Before he can say anything Kakashi dips down and captures his lips, the sudden change in their positions moving the angle of each thrust and setting sparks off behind his closed eye-lid.

He clenches around Kakashi’s length, their mutual groans of pleasure swallowed up in the wet tongues and panting bursts of air. He can feel the smirk against his lips, “There?”

“ _Yes,_ ” he says before pulling him back into a passionate kiss, moving his legs to trap Kakashi against him, to make him go deeper.

He needs right now like he never has before, his _body_ needs like it never has before. Every movement and stimulation is all at once too much and not enough. Almost there, building up the pleasure like a damn but not allowing it to burst. It’s driving Obito mad.

When it does, thought. When it does, it’s to the sensation of Kakashi’s hips snapping forward as Obito’s own lift to meet the thrust, it’s to his fingers clenching into soft locks, trying to find purchase against the wave that is threatening to drown him. It comes hot and fast, and contorts his muscles till his back is tighter than a bow string at full draw. The feeling of Kakashi finishing at the same time, a burst of hot warmth suddenly filling him makes his vision go white.

By the time he has calmed down, breathing starting to return to a relatively normal rate, Kakashi has dropped off to one side.

He knows he needs to get up, to collect the sample the stupid snake needs, but his limbs are deliciously limp. Muscles like jelly against the soft sheets, and body still overheated even as the cooler air seeping through the wooden frame of Akatsuki drags along his nerves.

All the same, he reaches for a shirt tossed off the bed and rips off a strip of cloth, using that he rubs up as much as he can before carelessly tossing it onto the bedside drawer. With that taken care off he shifts his tired body to fit against the one to his side, eyes closed and sleep not too far off.

The last thing he feels is an arm wrapping securely around him and a pair of lips against the top of his head.


	14. Head to the wind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ‘Ello my lovely, lovely readers.
> 
> A fair warning for you all, (which I will repeat again in the actual text of the chapter before this happens just to make sure you all know) I will be overseas for 9 weeks over this coming summer, and most likely unable to update at all. I will be writing, but it won’t be posted. Anyway, this isn’t taking place until June, and so I’ll probably have one or two more chapters up before it happens.
> 
> But just to let you know my radio silence during that time is not because I’ll be discontinuing any of my stories.
> 
> Anyway, onto the next chapter, hope you all enjoy AND PLEASE REVIEW!

_Head to the wind - facing difficult times/choices_

Obito shoves the vial into Orochimaru’s hand with a scowl so powerful it almost covers up his blush. _Almost._ The smirk that follows him all the way up to the main deck makes the twisted sour look on his face worsen until his crew scatter in the wake of his presence. (And they are _his_ crew now, all of them, pirates and seamen alike both falling under his and Kakashi’s commands. They would be feared across the seas should this last longer than the saving of their precious people. A pipedream, and nothing more. But Obito has always been a dreamer.

A deeper, wickedly bitter part of him whispers doubts and dark trickling laughter into his mind at even the thought of a hopeful ending to this journey. They’re pirates. They’re not meant to have a happy ending to their story. And from what he has seen that sickly seamen and his partner with the toothpick - Hayate and Genma - are loyal to a fault for Konohagakure and her people. Just as loyal as Kisame is to Obito. He would feel wrong pulling the man away from where he truly finds peace in supporting). Not a single one of them wanting to get in his way when this kind of mood strikes. Even Kisame, the one who can normally weather such a storm through cool-headed loyalty doesn’t attempt a greeting.

He doesn’t even have to order them to their stations, and that, if mildly, makes his mood feel better. And it’s not until strong arms wrap around his waist and a chin rests daringly against his shoulder that the tension finally bleeds fully from his form.

“You can’t be mad,” Kakashi tells him in a too-cheerful voice, “you lost.”

“We should have done best two out of three.”

“You would have picked paper next,” the man says, deadpan.

“You don’t know that!” The silence that follows makes Obito’s face heat up, “Besides, rock-paper-scissors shouldn’t decide such an important task.”

Kakashi raises an eyebrow, not that Obito can see it, but it’s in the man’s voice, “That bad?”

“His smirk is infuriating,” he mutters unhappily.

It earns him a silent laugh that shakes Kakashi’s shoulders like a breaking wave. The press of a masked kiss on his cheek does nothing to dissipate the embarrassment riding along his spine like a coiling snake.

Nor the nerves at the thought that they will need to wake Konan in a mere five hours; the breaking dawn of mist rising sharp against the horizon marks their entrance into Uzushio’s perilous stretches of surrounding sea. And they will need all hands on deck in order to make it out alive.

* * *

 

 Orochimaru’s vessel, captained for the time being by Karin, is the first to enter the thick wall of mist. Obito and his crew had never dared to entire this stretch of sea for the tales of missing ships and the disappearance of seamen beyond the curtain. He can’t say he is all that thrilled about entering it now. (And from the looks on his crews and even Orochimaru’s face they aren’t either). Not because he thinks it is dangerous - because that just makes it _interesting_ \- but because he isn’t sure they will all come out of this alive.

Their ships are on the smaller side, and it lends them advantage in the twisting route of whirlpools and jagged rocks that greet them so kindly. No one speaks, not a noise is made as the sails are pulled tight so no wind will catch, with only the current to carry them through. Not even a breath is heard amongst the crew. All of them too focused on the hope of survival to be talking.

Or… at least it’s like that for the first few arching turns they make. And then the crew breaks under the pressure; Shisui, being the first to act, latches onto Tenzo’s stiff form with a smile - Obito can’t tell if it’s forced or not. “This isn’t so bad,” his voice carries. “All we need to do is avoid the sharp pointy rocks.”

Obito watches in amusement as Tenzo levels a withering glare at his clinging companion. But the comment does its job, the rest of the crew seems to loosen. “And the whirlpools, don’t forget those,” Zabuza supplies helpfully, a glint in his eye that says the comment is aimed purely for the annoyance of Tenzo.

Obito blocks out the rest of the conversation focusing back onto steering just right to avoid the edges of a particularly vicious looking outcropping of stone. He’s just happy to know that everyone is calming down; nerves can lead to mistakes.

It is slow going, but by the time they hit the third hour the rocks are thinning and the mist is all but gone - an open splay of water and islands lays out a mere few knots ahead. A sight Obito is more than thankful to take in. This, at the very least, has gone well.

They round the main island that hosts Uzushio’s shining capital city. A sad sight now. Crumbled and lost to weather and time, ruins tumbled down out of twisting columns to lay bare and wasted in the sunlight stretching through the falling clouds overhead.

Their goal lies beyond this, a smaller island out, stretched a few handfuls of knots west that catches along the edges of the mist, collecting old guard posts like treasure chests. They can’t go in too close from this side, the shallower water reaching father out, but coming around from the mist is too risky. So they anchor Akatsuki and Oto, their smaller boats for going ashore lowering into the sea below. Kisame, Itachi, Hayate and Kakazu stay behind.

Obito will just be glad when this is all over - three Captains to one vessel is too many. And although Orochimaru is an ally, an asset at the very least, he is not inclined to welcoming him so openly back into his crew by any manner of speaking.

The water is calmer here, less choppy and lapping almost lovingly against the sandy shore as they make their approach. Some part of him is excited - this may very well be the fountain of youth that they are about to stumble upon. Another part is viciously squashing that thought because of course it isn’t. Orochimaru has never been right before; he is most likely leading his crew their deaths right now. But Orochimaru demanded that he come along, the snake forcing Karin onto the island as a means to ensure Obito complies. It sets warnings off in his head but he knows that his choices are limited and if getting Nagato back requires he accompany the snake through his perilous journey then so be it.

They make it all of a few meters onto the shore, sand sinking nicely under their boots, before the enemy shows themselves. A virtual forest of men that pops up over the cresting rocks and plant life, weapons drawn and menacing aura screaming danger. Obito doesn’t even hesitate as he draws his blade. His crew doing the same.

But it isn’t these men that his eyes land on. No. It’s the shadowed figure at their head, a wash of tangling black locks framing a face he wants to see white washed and covered in blood.

“Madara,” the name comes bitten off and bitter, like a poison dripping past his lips. “What are you doing here? Where’s Nagato!?”

“You’re worried for your little crewmember?” The man asks, “I thought raised you better.”

“Where is he?!” He repeats, not deigning that remark with a response.

“Dead.”

“Lair! You need him alive for your ritual, now tell me where he is!”

“Oh,” the man smirks, eyes shining as he looks down at the Akatsuki and Oto crew members. “So you did your research. Good. It’s nice to know my time spent on you wasn’t a complete waste.”

A noise closure to inhumane that Obito has ever made rips out of his throat. Too many memories dragged up from those simple words. Years spent on a boat sailing _happily_ under the tutelage of the man before him. “A _waste_ ,” his voice comes out loud and rough, “you’re the one who left me to die!”

Madara looks at him as if he is stupid, “Believe what you want, but I knew you would survive.”

What?

“But enough of this,” the man draw his sword, smooth and deadly. “Hand over the Uzumaki girl.”

Karin herself is standing at the ready, weapon drawn and eyes blazing with a fury that can only belong to her family. The flame goes out with a swift hit to the back of her head, the snake’s hand withdrawing and a satisfied look crossing his face.

“You bastard, what are you doing?!” Obito cries out, moving to take a step forward but at that moment Madara’s men give a cry of battle and he has to turn and face a much more pressing enemy. Over the clash of metal he hears the snake speak.

“I held up my end of the bargain, now give me the water.”

Oh. _Oh._ He is going to kill the snake after this. Gut him like the monster he is and mount his head right next to Madara’s.

“You fool,” and Obito recognizes that voice - would do so anywhere. Zetsu is here. “There never was a fountain.”

He doesn’t get to see Orochimaru’s reaction, but the number of men attacking them thins drastically after that declaration. Not enough that they can manage to stay much longer, but it gives them an opening.

“Retreat!” He yells, booming over the sound of battle, “Get to the boats!”

His crew follows orders without a moment of hesitation, cutting down the enemy as they race to reach the boats.

The sand skids and sinks under the force of his steps, his boots scrapping against the tiny particles that span the length of the small island beach. His crew rush after him, scrambling to make it back to their smaller docking boats. Silver shines in his peripheral and the sound of metal hitting metal has the Uchiha spinning around, the flat of his sword meeting his opponent’s blade – with a growl they break apart but it takes only the flick of a wrist and the man goes down, blood soaking the sands. Sasori passes him then, a blank look on his face but his eyes are filled with equal parts frustration and murder. The Uchiha thinks he understands.

Obito tips his head to the man, looking back to make sure all of his crew has made it out of the fray. (Because they are a team and losing another one of them is the absolute _last_ thing Obito wants). He counts heads and the roaring in his ears quiets just a little, enough that he can hear the way the water is kissing the shore a few steps away. It would be romantic if it wasn’t for the way the sand ran red.

In that last stretching moment, just as he is moving to turn away, black eyes meet black and the Uchiha scowls. A show of teeth as good a warning as any in the short time he has before the boats broaching the separation between land and sea depart. He turns his back on the enemy; a show of disrespect that he knows will cut deep. One he hadn’t dared to give in his younger years – those robbed of innocence by sharp blades, and crashing waves washing away the last semblance of childhood still threading to his heart. Gripping the wooden frame of the last boat he pushes until it’s in deeper water and leaps with a shout to start paddling. The dark-haired captain holds back a sigh of relief as the men are quick to heed his command. At least all of the _Akatsuki_ made it out of the situation alive. He can’t say much for the snake’s crew, however. Nor does he particularly care.

(He’s not sure the snake cares much either, not with what had just transpired. And although the thought of such a thing makes the Uchiha’s blood boil he knows that simply striking down the snake will lead to nothing good).

He scans the waters ahead and notes the waves are gaining strength, calculations run through his mind; with the dark clouds hanging not far off and the direction of the wind he doubts they will miss the storm. Giving one last look at the virtual army of men moving on the island to their own boats – presumably on another beach farther down – Obito feels a headache rising like the very sea, one that makes him want to rub at his temples in attempted relief.

Because those aren’t their biggest problems.

Really, Obito can barely even believe he’s _in_ this situation to begin with. He thought he was done dealing with Madara years ago – the only thought given to the elder pirate has been that of revenge – and now the mad bastard has managed to draw him into another of his crazed plans. Has made him a facilitator of it at that.

He would laugh if it all wasn’t so threatening. Wasn’t all so disheartening. What’s even more is that his life - and heart, now - is all but forfeit when this is said and done. If he had the choice he would go back to the beginning of all this mess and tell his younger self a thing or two.

But that is far from possible, and the fates have never favored him to begin with; such a wish as to time travel will never be answered. So he holds onto the little things that fall in their favor. The crew of the Akatsuki has survived. Zabuza and Haku have made it out as well. They officially know the mad Uchiha’s plans. And they know where he is going.


	15. Three sheets to the wind

_“Three sheets to the wind” - to lose control._

* * *

 

“What the hell was that?” he practically screams as they board their ships once more, his sword pointed precariously at the snake’s throat. Anger rolls over him like the waves, crashing with a resounding silence. His crew all take a step back from the rage in his eyes - even if it’s directed solely at Orochimaru.

The scowl on Orochimaru’s face is the kind Obito has only seen on those ready to kill an entire crew to quench their rage. “I got betrayed is what happened.”

“ _You_ got betrayed?” Obito hisses, pressing the blade in hard enough that Orochimaru is forced to take a step back. “What about Karin, or _us?_ ”

“He was offering me immortality,” Orochimaru sniffs imperiously. And doesn’t that just make everything so _clear._ No wonder Madara knew where they would be, and when they would be there.

“Immortality,” Obito repeats. “Of course, _you_ would throw _anything_ away for your goal.”

“Don’t act so high and mighty, _Uchiha,_ ” the snake’s eyes narrow. “You would have done the same to these Konoha dogs once you got Nagato back.”

“Don’t throw me in with your decisions!”

“It’s best if we calm down,” Konan says evenly, her voice ice cold as she places a hand on his sword to lower the blade. (But Obito knows that she’s barely containing her own anger, her own frustration at being double-crossed. She has killed people for such transgressions in the past. Laid waste to their lives without even a flicker of hesitation.) “We still need each other’s help if we want to defeat Madara.”

 “You can’t expect us to trust the snake to have our backs,” Obito counters. “Not after he so easily handed over Karin.”

“I didn’t intend to let Madara _keep_ her,” Orochimaru snaps. “He wasn’t the only one planning to double-cross.”

“That doesn’t change the fact that he can raise that damn monster.”

“Maa, Konan-chan is right. Fighting right now won’t solve anything.” Kakashi steps up, eye smile deceptively cheerful.

Obito can’t refute their point. They _do_ need Orochimaru’s help. The Akatsuki crew, as skilled as they are, are no match against the virtual fleet that their enemy wields so easily. Although, having a few handfuls of extra swords won’t make much of a difference at this point. Their element of surprise is all but over, they’re down crewmembers, and they have no idea how to properly navigate Uzushio’s waters to the open ocean without Karin.

In short: they’re screwed.

They've lost control of this entire mission. In fact they haven’t had it since the very start.

“We have a week until the ritual can be performed,” Obito finally sheaths his sword. “We need to come up with a plan.”

Hidan snorts, “What we need is a fucking miracle.”

“What supplies do we have left?” Kakashi asks, because ignoring Hidan is their best option at the moment.

“A dozen or so cannonballs, a barrel of gun powder, enough guns and bullets for the crew, and food to last two weeks,” Kakuzu lists off. “If we can make it back to the main island we can camp there until we come up with something.”

Obito nods, “The fog will help give us cover. Alright, to your stations!”

* * *

 

The fact that they make it to the shores of Uzushio, both ships intact, is a feat that Obito needs at least three bottles of rum to move past. But at least they made it there alive.

“There, you’ve had our miracle, un,” Deidara hisses at Hidan under his breath, as if Obito doesn’t _hear_ it. Three times - they only almost crashed _three_ times - and one of those times was entirely Kakashi’s fault.

“I think that went well,” Kakashi says cheerfully from his side, eye smile firmly in place even under Obito’s glare.

“Off the ship. Now.” He stalks onto the lower deck, tension dissipating as the fog around them starts to clear and gives a better view of the village. It’s in ruins, much like he expected, but the buildings that still stand hold their ground, like ghosts unable to move on from a past too lost to ever restore. Crumbled homes and twisting plants claim their territory amongst the lost city, creating a beautiful landscape.

He sucks in a breath, stepping out onto the rocky port and hoping the stone doesn’t give way beneath his feet. His crew follow, and so does Orochimaru’s from their own ship that docked one section down. This will be there home for the week.

The city, for all that it lays at their feet destroyed, seems only to be sleeping - as if, at any moment, it could come awake beneath them and the markets will once more be bustling. It isn’t. And they won’t. But the sentiment staggers him for a moment, and leaves him almost hesitant to disturb the ground they are about to tread.

“Let’s go,” he murmurs, soft so as not to wake anything unwanted.

They remain quiet as they make their way through the village, trying to find anything they can use in their fight against Madara and his army.

And perhaps it’s just because Akatsuki was founded in order to prevent events like the fall of Uzushio that makes him so reluctant to take anything but the barest of what they need. Or perhaps it's the way the Konoha sailors look on this land as if it was their own that has been lost (and really, Obito thinks, it was in a way - Uzushio and Konoha had been the closest of allies before it died). But, whichever the reason, Obito feels a heavy ache resting in his chest as he moves a pile of debris in order to enter a partially standing home.

It’s the fourth building that he’s checked. All those preceding having nothing more than decayed fabrics and furniture - nothing of use. He doubts that this one will hold any different. It’s doesn't, from what he can see standing in the doorway. There is nothing more to this building than the last. Still, he walks in, onto the creaking floorboards and breathes in the musty air.

“Obito!” The call of his name has him rushing back out the door before he can even realize what he’s doing.

“Konan!” he shouts back, because that was her voice, and it sounded panicked. “Konan, where are you?!”

“Here!” The call comes from a few buildings over, and he rushes there without restraint. Skidding into the entryway he takes in the scene. Konan is standing over a hole in the floorboards, worry spread openly across her face. “Rin fell,” she tells him. “And she’s not answering.”

With a curse he comes over to get a look. “Do you know how far down this goes?” he asks, because these buildings are old, and they shouldn’t _have_ basements, what with being so close to the shore.

Konan shakes her head as Kakashi comes skidding into the building behind them, coming to stand next to Obito.

“You stay here and see if you can get her to answer while I grab some rope from the ship and we can—” he’s cut off, the wood cracking again and with a rush of air that sends his stomach into his throat, all three of them are tumbling into the darkness.

It’s not as far a drop as it seemed, although that’s only a small consolation when considering they are still very much stuck in a hole. He holds back a groan and spits out a mouthful of dust.

“Kakashi? Konan?” he calls out, because if they went and got themselves killed he’s going to find a way to bring them back just to kill them himself.

“We’re over here, Obito,” Konan answers him, and he crawls towards her voice, because damn his pride, at the moment, he has no intentions of standing up only to trip and fall all over again. (It takes him a moment to realize that the rough patterns in the stone are actually _runes_.)

“Did you find Rin?”

“No, but we did find what appears to be a tunnel. If we follow it we might find her.” And oh, doesn’t _that_ just sound like a fantastic idea? Going down the mysterious tunnel hidden underneath a village that is in ruins after falling through the floorboards of a house. Fantastic idea. Really. There is absolutely no way that could go wrong. “Stop it,” Konan snipes, “I can hear you thinking and just _stop._ I don’t see you coming up with a better idea to find Rin and get out of here.”

He huffs, pulling himself to his feet as his companions do the same. “Fine. Down the creepy tunnel we go.”

“Don’t worry, Obi-chan,” Kakashi’s voice brushes against his ear. “I’ll protect you from the monsters.”

“Bakashi, if anything _I’ll_ be the one protecting _you,_ ” he growls out, but there is no heat to his words, and he doesn’t pull away when he feels a hand slip into his.

It is much, _much_ longer to walk through the pitch-black tunnel than it was to fall. Only the sounds from the shuffle of their boots against the stone floors and the soft brush of their hands along the walls for guidance accompanies them. Ten, then fifteen minutes pass and Obito absently hopes that the crew isn’t too worried about their absence. There are doors occasionally along the way, but they are all locked and Obito doubts that Rin would enter one and lock it behind her.

Another five and they finally find the faint glow of a light farther down the tunnel. “What do you think it is?”

“A way out,” Konan murmurs, “and where Rin would have gone.”

“Well,” Kakashi hums, “we don’t have much choice.” And then he’s tugging more insistently at Obito’s hand, walking faster and ignoring the protests that follow.

They very nearly run into Rin when they burst into the lighted room - or chamber really, because it’s massive with the ceiling high, carved with runes and seals that Obito can’t even imagine the meaning of. But that isn’t what they focus on, no - it’s the ships, beautifully crafted and set to be launched into the smooth waters lapping softly at a rocky shore.

“What?” Obito manages to breathe out. “What is this place?”

No one answers. But, then again, he hadn’t expected them to.

They look like war ships from where they stand, and he can’t help but walk closer, right up until he can reach out and run his hand along the smooth wood, exquisitely painted, the craftsmanship like no other that Obito has ever seen. He scans over the ornate designs with interest he doesn’t bother concealing. “Kurama,” he reads out the name, painted in a burning orange across the wood - it’s the largest of the bunch. He turns to look at the next one, “Gyuki.”

“They’re for battle,” Konan says, face calm as ever, but he can see the wonder in her eyes. “At least, they were at one point.”

“If we had a large enough crew we could use them to defeat Madara,” Rin calls wistfully from where she is running her fingers over the Isobu. She’s not wrong. They look powerful - sturdy enough to take whatever Madara’s precious Kaguya could throw at them. But even with Oto, ANBU, and Akatsuki put together, they don’t have enough men to man these boats. Not nearly enough to maneuver them _and_ fight simultaneously.

Except. An idea starts to swirl in his mind. Maybe they don’t _need_ to have enough.


	16. Eye of the wind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'Ello lovely readers,  
> So it seems that this is it; the last chapter! I hope you've all enjoyed the adventure, and I want to give a massive shout out to the lovely Kakuraku who has been betaing for me, and wow I do not deserve them because they're amazing and yeah. So this last chapter is dedicated to them and all that they've done in helping me write this!   
> Anyway, onto the chapter! I hope you all enjoy!

_“Eye of the wind” - the center of the storm; the center of all forces._

The wind ripples his hair softly, spreading like fine fingers over his scalp and soothing the ache across his healing face. Although Zetsu tells him it’s just phantom pains, he’s not sure if that’s true or not. Phantom pains wouldn’t hurt _this_ much, right?

A hand comes down on his shoulder, large and warm against the slight chill that the wind brings; a storm is brewing it would seem. Obito looks up at the one who has saved him - who has taken him under his wing - and meets his elder’s gaze steadily.

“Where would you like to go?” Madara asks.

“I get to choose?” His voice rushes with excitement at the prospect, the ocean bounding endlessly before his eyes; Obito feels his heart leap into a desperate rhythm matching the crashing of the waves against the sides. With a widening smile he points to the left, where the horizon kisses the water; where the shadow of halcyons cut against white clouds, slowly shading pink in the sunrise.

“Ah,” Madara sounds, voice impossibly deep, taking a few strides back to the wheel. The boat shifts to bring Obito’s destination in line, “So you want to race the tides.”

* * *

 

When Obito wakes with a start, his dream forgotten in the fog of morning. Five days have passed without Obito’s consent, and they are still no closer to truly understanding the ships, nor how to steer them.

Once they’d had found the ships, everything had fallen into place from there. The crew had, of course, followed them through the caverns because Obito clearly hasn’t drilled enough self-preservation skills into their stubborn heads. From there the plan spread, getting nods of approval, and a rushed scramble to try and learn the boats well enough to maneuver them in the waters of Uzushio. It was easier said than done, however.

“Supposedly, they don’t need a crew,” Sasori reports to him as he pulls himself up from the sandy shores they all slept on. The spy-master walked over soon after Kisame woke him.

“What?” Obito rubs at his eye to clear away the blurs of sleep.

“There are seals,” Sasori explains, “running all-over the deck. I think they’re meant to be warships that can sail without the crew tending to them.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” Obito grumbles. Because, really, it’s too early for this.

Sasori just shrugs. “And a monster sealed into an island does? According to legend, the Uzumaki could do anything with their seals. Self-sailing ships would allow for less time working the ropes and more time to fight.”

Kisame whistles. “Now that’s a ship I wanna be the crew of.”

Obito rolls his eye, starting to move towards the vessels. “You’ll be getting your wish soon enough. As long as we can figure out how to get them to work.”

When he pulls himself aboard the largest of the fleet - Kurama - it’s to find Shisui and Deidara already at the helm with Shisui running his fingers along the seal.

“Find anything?”

“Nothing, un,” Deidara reports, a frown on his lips as he squats next to the Uchiha.

“What if we need magic, or an Uzumaki’s bl—,” Shisui rips his hand back from where he had been tracing it with a hissed curse. Obito catches sight of a cut on his finger before the entire ship seems to _breathe._ A great flooding of light through every vein and etching of the seal array has him sucking in a sharp sting of air, until finally the light - orange and twisting with red - settles back into a dull glow. The wood beneath his feet groans, long and rumbling with life that Obito never realized a ship could have beyond metaphorically.

“What?” Shisui squeaks out, “What just happened?”

It doesn’t take long for his crew to come scrambling onto the ship, all of them with open faces of shock and wonder.

Tenzo rushes towards the Uchiha. “Oh Kami, Shisui, what did you _do_?”

“Why do you just assume it was me?” Shisui whines, although he quickly relents under Tenzo’s unimpressed gaze. “I don’t _know,_ okay? One minute I was looking at the seals and the next I got cut and everything started to glow. _Glow,_ Plant Boy.”

Haku comes to stand next to him, distracting him from the drama the pair creates. “It’s supposed to be golden.”

“What?”

“The seals. They are meant to glow gold when the ship has chosen its true captain,” Haku looks up at him. “These vessels, they have souls. I can feel it.”

Obito nods once, to acknowledge he understands and as a thank you for the information. Merfolk have a way about them that gives them insight into the strangest of things, most notably that which relates to the seas. When one offers knowledge, it is wise to listen.

The ship lurches then, and suddenly it’s in the water without their say, although it moves no further.

“Obito,” Kakashi is at his side then, “I think your crazy plan might just work after all.”

It does, in a way. It takes the rest of their time, but in the end Shisui takes on Kurama (apparently all ANBU members must learn every job on a ship in order to pass their exams inducting them into the prestigious group), Rin commands Isobu, Konan on Matatabi, Obito himself oversaw Saiken, and the other crew members distributed accordingly - it might just work out. They’ll take on Madara’s crew with five self-sailing ships, leaving Akatsuki and Oto behind for now.

Really, it’s just for intimidation, for show - in order to draw out those crew members that Madara had picked up for bought muscle and annoyance. It’ll be easier to cut them down in the water than on land, even with only five of the ships under their command.

The time to launch their assault has come, and so with one last scan of his crew, making sure everyone is in position, he brings his pistol into the air. The shot rang clear in the open cavern, marking the start of their battle, and with it the ships launched.

They only have hours left until the moon makes its appearance, but they had no option to move earlier, too busy trying to activate the rest of the ships. And now they must fight through an entire fleet of Madara’s lackeys within the scant amount of time that they have left. Saving Nagato, Kushina, and Karin in the process.

Obito hadn’t realized the extent of the connection that they have with the ships until they launched into the surrounding seas of Uzushio’s main island. It’s not an experience easily explained, but there is a rush of breath in his lungs that isn’t his own and the feel of water against his fingers that he knows shouldn’t be there. The taste of salt - more than the wind could ever carry - tickles his throat as the sun beats down with the late-afternoon’s intensity.

The waves rush over the hull and through his chest in the same motion, catching his breath on the breeze and stealing away the rush of wind for the crash of water in his ears. He can _see_ , can feel the right direction. Can touch the bottom of the sea and the tip of the horizon as Saiken cuts around each whirlpool with simply his thoughts.

He hopes the others are feeling the same adrenaline that pumps through his veins.

In what feels like moments but must have been an hour, he finds them facing the very island they had retreated from not so long ago. There’s a fleet there, more than double what they have, but Obito refuses to let that stop them. With a smile of promises and death, Obito lets his vessel sail forward with a shouted order to his crew below, “Prepare the cannons!”

But even as they move to do so, the guns are wrapped in seals and pushed to their stations. Kisame shoots him a look, and Obito _understands_ finally what they meant when it would be self-sailing. He can’t help but laugh, because Madara was going to _die._

It would be Rin, Konan, and Shisui’s job to hold off the ships in the water while the rest of them make it for the shores to take on what crew Madara has there. But first they had to get through the fleet, which meant they’d be fighting.

“Let them come to us,” Obito calls down. “Don’t go onto their ships!” Because that will give them an advantage, even if it’s only slight.

“Hai, Captain!” his crew shouts back. And then the first cannon’s shot echoed through the tension.

It doesn’t take long for two of the other fleet’s ships to surround them on either side, and really, they couldn’t be any more predictable? “Fire!” Obito shouted, the sound of his crew meeting his command rang out harshly with the sharp, staggering pains he felt as Saiken was fired upon as well. Painful or not, he has experienced worse.

The first of the other crew swung onto their ship, Kisame immediately moving to intercept as Itachi reloaded cannons. Obito himself stepped away from the wheel to cut down any attackers targeting those who were preoccupied.

“Deidara, now!” he called out as the blond came up from the lower decks, a wooden crate in hand.

“Time to make these fuckers into _art,_ un!” The blond’s eyes lit up with excitement, Sasori beside him to give him time to light each bomb’s fuse.

The ship to their right went up in a spectacular explosion of flames, and alcohol (as well as whatever other chemicals Deidara stuffed into each bottle). It gave those who had invaded Saiken pause, and left them open - easy kills. The ship to their left met the same fate mere moments later, and Obito couldn’t bring himself to feel pity for those crews.

Two down, twelve more to go.

* * *

 

By the time they’ve cut down enough ships to let three of theirs hold off the rest, the sun has nearly set. Obito’s clothes have been soaked through with water and sweat, his breath coming in short bursts, throat raw from shouting orders and several cuts on his body stinging from the salt in the air.

But the feel of sand beneath his feet makes it worth it. The feel of sand and the fact Madara has a mere three crews on this island to defend him and his ritual. Obito catches Orochimaru’s gaze and nods; they will go ahead, while their crews stay behind to deal with this mess.

“Kisame,” he turns to the swordsman, “you’re in charge until I get back.” He looks ahead, over the heads of their enemy to the trees behind. “If I don’t come back, tell Konan Akatsuki is hers.”

Without waiting for a response, he throws one of Deidara’s bombs, splitting off to the right side as Orochimaru goes left and their crews move up the center. He kills three before he makes it to the trees, ducking under vines and branches as he rushes to the towering pillar that Obito is _positive_ Madara will be using for his ritual.

He has no light, knowing it will give away his position too easily, even if stumbling around in the forest as the world slowly grows darker with the sun swallowed by the horizon isn’t exactly _convenient._

He meets Orochimaru at the base of the tower, sword drawn and waiting. With a nod - because silence is best - they start the climb. Obito doesn’t have time to be tired, or out of breath, even as he can feel his muscles aching and his injuries from flying wood and lucky hits making movements harder. He doesn’t have the time to feel this, not when Nagato is so close.

They pull themselves up the last few steps, and Obito draws his pistol without a thought.

“So nice of you to finally join us,” Madara says, smile wide and manic - insane, really.

“Madara,” Obito murmurs, eyes skittering to the gun that’s held up against Nagato’s temple. “Don't you need them alive for the ritual?”

Madara tilts his head to one side. “Yes.”

Obito dives to the side, trusting Orochimaru to do the same as Zetsu’s blade swipes through the spot where their heads had just been. The bastard was creating a distraction. With a hiss as his hands scrape over rough stone, Obito rolls out of the way of a stab. Twisting, he points his pistol at Zetsu only to have it hit out of his hands, the weapon skittering over the rock in the direction of the ritual’s circle. The circle where Karin and who he assumes is Kushina are laid out, eyes closed and unmoving.

And then Zetsu is gone, Orochimaru drawing his attention away, and giving Obito the opportunity to fix his grip on his sword and come up against Madara.

“This is it, Madara,” Obito growls. “Give up.”

“My dear boy,” Madara’s laugh is an ugly sound that sends a chill down Obito’s spine, “this is far from over.” And then Nagato is falling to the ground, unconscious from the blow that Madara made to his head with the butt of his gun.

Obito cuts to the left and forward as fast as he can, but the burst of pain in his shoulder tells him he wasn’t fast enough. A cry wretches itself from his throat and he presses his free hand into the wound, trying to stop the bleeding.

“You didn’t think you’d actually win?” Madara asks, eyes catching the last moments of sunlight as he looks to the horizon. Obito’s eyes flicker to where his gun is, trying to calculate if he can reach it in time; most likely not. “Now, now,” Madara sneers, pointing his gun at Obito’s head. “Don’t get any ideas, we both know you couldn’t stop this.” A frown tugs at Madara’s lips, there and gone in a second, “After all the time I put into you, and this is how you repay me?”

“Done for me?” Obito’s voice comes out as sharp as a blade. “You stole my _eye,_ and then left me for dead on the island!”

Madara scoffs, waving a hand as if it means _nothing._ “No need to take it so personally.”

But Obito ignores him. “You lied to me!” Obito shouts, anger squeezing his heart, building a pressure in his chest that felt as if it would burst from him any moment. “You told me Konoha abandoned me, that they _hated_ me!”

“Konoha deserves to _burn,_ ” Madara snarls, and it’s the maddest Obito has ever seen him, eyes practically red from his anger. “Konoha and every other nation!”

There’s the flash of red, and Obito throws his sword, letting it skitter on the ground. The moment Madara’s eyes follow it, he ducks away from the shot that rings out. His own movements draws the bastard’s gaze away from the sword being picked up. When he looks back, it’s to find a sword through Madara’s stomach. Obito meets the man’s widening black eyes with a satisfied smirk. “We win.”

The gun goes next, Kushina taking the weapon from Madara’s grip and, without a sign of remorse or hesitance, pulls the trigger with the barrel pressed firmly to the man’s head.

Obito can’t say he’s not jealous that he hadn’t done it himself. And really, for the fact they’ve spent so long trying to do exactly what Kushina just did so simply, it all feels too surreal.

“You’re the rescue party?” Kushina asks, sliding the sword from Madara’s stomach with ease, her eyebrow raised at Obito as she gives him a once over.

“Something like that,” Obito snorts. “Didn’t he tie you up?”

Kushina raises an eyebrow, “I’m more than capable of escaping a bit of rope.”

Obito can’t help the laugh that bubbles inside his chest, but one glance at Nagato kills the sound between his lips. “You might want to go help the snake with Zetsu.” The sound of their ongoing battle echoes loud in the silence of the night, and Obito is fast getting a headache.

Kushina hums, gaze snapping to where he presumes the two are, giving him one last look before moving to help.

Obito takes the time to shuffle over to where Nagato is, all too relieved to feel the thump of a pulse when he presses his fingers on the Uzumaki’s wrist. He sinks to his knees, a breathy laugh escaping his lungs.

There’s the rush of footsteps sometime later - Obito’s really not sure how long he’s knelt there, pressing his fingers into that pulse, reassuring himself with it. He feels a hand on his shoulder and he looks up to find Kakashi looking at him with barely concealed worry. “Maa, I think it’s time to get that looked at. Kushina will look after Nagato.”

Obito blinks at him, letting the words sink in before realizing that they’re in reference to the gunshot wound in his shoulder. He glances over at Madara’s body, and then to Zetsu’s that Orochimaru is instructing his crew to pack up. It’s over. His eyes finally land back on Kakashi and he nods, “Konan would kill me if I didn’t.”

Kakashi hums, before a glitter of something Obito _knows_ won’t end well flickers through the Hatake’s gaze, and the next thing Obito knows he’s being lifted bridal style into the man’s arms.

“Put me _down,_ Hatake,” he growls, squirming as best he can.

“But you’re injured, Obi-chan,” Kakashi eye-smiles at him.

“In my _shoulder,”_ Obito stresses. “I can still _walk_!”

“How cute!” The voice makes him freeze and he turns his head to come face to face with his crew. With a groan he hides his burning face in his hands. Rin, who had spoken, reaches out and touches his shoulder. “Obito, you’re bleeding!”

“Gunshot wound,” Kakashi says, entirely _too_ cheerful.

“Konan,” Obito pointedly ignores the waste of space currently holding him, “Kushina is with Nagato on top of the tower.”

“No one’s dead,” she calls over her shoulder as she disappears up the stairs, pace brisk and an excitement in her eyes. Obito holds in a snort, moving to let Rin more easily see the wound in his shoulder.

It’s over. Nagato is safe, and his crew is alive. And really, that’s all he needs.

“I guess this is it,” Obito says, swallowing the tightness that has risen up from his chest.

Kakashi doesn't even bother to glance at him. “I get the feeling this isn’t the last crisis the Akatsuki will face.”

“No doubt,” Obito huffs, because his crew - and he really needs to start thinking of only the original seven rather than those that his heart has managed to encompass during this adventure - is a danger magnet.

“That settles it, then,” Kakashi tells him cheerfully, “you clearly need me there to watch your back.”

Obito sputters, because despite the way his heart _soars_ at the implications - the _promises_ \- in those words, there is still an insult in there. “I can take care of myself, Bakashi!”

“Of course you can, Obi-chan.”

“Stop calling me that!”

“But you’re so cute when you’re mad.” Kakashi smiles down at him and Obito sincerely debates the pros of strangling the man in that moment. In the end, he decides the effort and pain it would cause his shoulder are too great. Instead he grumbles, resting his head in the space between shoulder and neck, closing his eyes to the sound of waves crashing against an island shore that gets closer with each moment.

There are still things to be dealt with; getting Kushina home, Kakashi’s defection, and deciding what to do with the self-sailing ships of Uzushio. But for now Obito let himself breathe in salty air, and take comfort in the arms carrying him to the sea and tides - carrying him _home._


End file.
